


Of Magic and Second Chances

by ladyofthewoo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Consensual Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hopefully I'll fix it, I know this isn't the best ship, I'm not mature, It's slightly problematic, J.K. Rowling doesn't know how to do redemption arcs, Let me try to make Severus Snape less of an asshole, Piggy-back flight, Slow Burn, Time Travel Fix-It, be patient with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-08-29 02:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16735710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofthewoo/pseuds/ladyofthewoo
Summary: What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.





	1. Dead Man

He was dying.

The warm flow of blood, coming from his neck, was pooling about his head and spilling across the dirty floor of the old shack.  
Cutting through the darkness, beams of thin moonlight fell from the rafters onto his hair and face, revealing glimpses of the gory scene he had become.

Despite the noise and violence that had, only moments ago, been his murder, the only sounds he could hear now were the rhythmic pelting of rain, the distant rumble of thunder, and his own ragged breathing. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe. He could feel the burn of the poison spreading across his chest. Rolling his eyes about the dim room, he quickly realized that he was completely alone. There was no one to help him.

 _But then,_  he thought grimly.  _Even if I were in a crowded room, there would still be no one to help me._

For Severus Snape, there were no more living allies. It was Voldemort who had killed him in attempt to control the Elder Wand. His fellow Death-Eaters would not be concerned with his demise. In fact, some of them probably thought he had it coming. Meanwhile, the Order believed him to be a murderer and a traitor. Only Dumbledore had known the truth about him. This thought brought him as much pain as the poison racing through his body.

Resigned to his fate, he felt all of his fear being replaced by a strange, painful kind of relief. He had done everything he could. His part was done. He could finally die.

He closed his eyes.

There was a soft shuffling sound, and then, a shadow broke the stream of moonlight. Severus opened his eyes again, weakly. Standing over him, peering through the darkness, was Harry Potter. His clothes were dirty and covered in nettles, as though he had been lying in the bushes just outside the Shrieking Shack. His glasses were cracked and his face scratched. The boy looked horrified and very, very young.

Severus had expected him to look more triumphant. His father certainly would have. After all, did Potter not think he was Dumbledore's murderer? Was he not the loathsome teacher that had made his life miserable?

Yet, Potter's eyes showed no malice. Though wide with fear, his eyes looked more like Lily's than they ever had before. They were shining with that almost otherworldly sympathy she had used to bestow upon every suffering thing. Severus didn't know if he wanted to stare into those merciful eyes forever, or to cover his head in shame. Guilt rushed to his heart, faster than the poison. 

_This poor boy... This cursed fate..._

In spite all of his sacrifices, he had not protected the boy after all. He had not protected him from Voldemort, from Dumbledore, or from _himself_. He had failed Lily in every way.

These thoughts were broken when the boy bent down on his knees and placed a hesitant hand upon Severus' shoulder.

"Professor?" Potter whispered, shakily.

Snape shook his head, an action that was surprisingly hard to do. Slowly wrenching his blood-soaked wand from his pocket, he pulled out his memories of all he knew about the prophecy, of all that was Lily, and of all that was his life. It was the last bit of help he would be able to give, and his last hope of forgiveness. Potter, seeming to understand what was happening, captured the memories in a small vial that he produced from his pockets.

As the boy was stopping the bottle top with trembling hands, Severus could feel that his final moments were upon him. He had so much left to say, but no way to say it. Tears burned within his eyes. Reaching out and gripping the boy's arm, his voice commanding even though they were his dying words, he cried, "Look… at… me." Shaken, Harry obeyed.

Severus stared into those all-too-familiar green eyes. In that moment, he knew he could face what came next— even a death like this.

Lily's eyes were all he could see. The boy's face slowly dissolved away, like the wearing off of a cloaking spell. His face became Lily's sun-kissed, speckled face.

It was Lily who was looking down at him.

The room, too, changed from an inky blackness into a blanket of hazy greens and yellows. His pain began to melt away into nothingness. Instead of the cold, dampness of a deserted shack, he felt a warm breeze. Instead of a sticky, dirty floor, he swore he could feel soft grass.

Lily was now kneeling beside him where the boy had been. Her eyes no longer looked frightened, but seemed full of mirth. He had forgotten how her eyes used to do that when they were young. She always looked like she had a secret joke playing in her head, and would, at any moment, burst into mischievous, glorious laughter. The very best of the Gryffindor spirit.

He saw, with painful clarity, how terribly lovely she was. Her blossoming figure was clothed in a sky-blue summer dress. Her dark, red hair cascaded over her freckle-dusted shoulders. She looked much younger than she had been the last time he saw her.

 _I must have actually died._  Severus thought.  _Although I expected hell to be a great deal worse than this…_

He smirked at the strangeness of the thought. The Lily-creature beside him laughed, gently.

"Sev, come on!" she said in her musical voice. "I can see you smiling! I know you're not asleep, you faker! You're eyes aren't even fully closed!"

Her voice! He had forgotten what it sounded like. 

"You're wrong, I'm sure," he quietly mused aloud. "I must be either dead or asleep, because I'm dreaming."

"What makes you think you're dreaming?" she said, smiling. A strand of her hair caught loose in the breeze and fell across her forehead. She pushed it back behind her ear. Severus watched her delicate movements and sighed with pleasure of seeing her like this; like she was. 

Even if this was just a hellish vision sent to torment him, he felt peaceful. Closing his eyes fully, his deep voice becoming distant and dreamy, he replied, "Because… you are far too beautiful to be real."

Lily blinked. Her expression assumed the look of puzzled embarrassment, as her cheeks lightly turned a lovely shade of pink.

"I—" she began. Then, looking down and shaking her head, she flashed a ludicrous smile.

"What a bunch of cheese!" she exclaimed. She looked back at his face and with a decided, swift motion, pinched his arm.

"Ow!" he cried. He sat up quickly, his eyes flying open. The pinch had hurt.

"See?" she said, sweetly. "You're not dreaming."

Severus looked at her, puzzled. 

_What… what is this?!_

"What..?" he said, looking about them.

They were both sitting under the large chestnut tree he had known from childhood. It grew along the shore of the dingy river near their homes in Cokeworth. The low sun was shining through the green leaves, creating spots of light in the shadows that fell upon them. The sky was a dazzling blue, with wisps of clouds lining the horizon. The warm air told him it was summer.

Across the river, he could see the old worn-down factory that they used to pretend was haunted when they were children. It was covered in vines of ivy, and birds were flying out from the fallen-in roof. The forest beyond the factory looked wild and unkempt. All of these things, he remembered, had been torn down, yet there they were. _How were they here?!_

"Lily," he said at length, a trembling beginning to take hold of his body. "What… is happening? What is today's date?"

"August 25th," she replied, slightly puzzled.

"And the year?"

"The year?"

"Yes," he said in a breathless voice. "Please."

"It's 1976, of course," she said slowly. "Sev, are you alright?"

_1976._

It hit him like lightning. It was the summer before their fifth year at Hogwarts. They were both fifteen… and Lily didn't hate him yet.

Severus felt as though he would hyperventilate. His breath became ragged and he felt like his chest was about to burst with emotion.

 _It has to be a trick!_  He thought. _Was I not just dying?! Was I not just in a dirty shack covered in blood and venom? Wasn't the world just about to end??_

And yet, he felt as though he was at the world's beginning. He felt the grass beneath his hands, the wind in his greasy hair, and the warmth of Lily's gaze.

Tears welled in his eyes, but he was too stunned to hold them back.

"Severus," Lily cried, distressed at his tears. "What's the matter?! You're _scaring_ me! Why are you crying?"

She put her delicate hands upon his shoulders, and he shivered at her touch. He could find no words to respond to her.

"I…" she said in a serious voice. "I didn't pinch you  _that_  hard, did I? Did I hurt you?"

A burst of laughter erupted from him at her words. God, it was the first time he had laughed in years! Lily looked at him, more confused than ever at his behavior. He wiped the tears from his eyes.

"No, Lily," he said, trying to control himself. "No, you didn't hurt me. I just... I...  I was having a strange dream."

"Oh, is that all?" she replied, her voice full of relief. "Well, go on. Tell me about it, then. The dream, I mean-- it must be a dramatic one to work you up so much."

Severus smiled at her pushy curiosity. It was another trait from her youth he had forgotten.

"I dreamed I did something… very… foolish," he began. "And that we were no longer friends."

"What?!" she cried, indignant. "Impossible! Why didn't you apologize?"

"I did," he replied. "Many times. But… you wouldn't forgive me."

She was silent for a moment, thinking on his words.

"That sounds awful stubborn of me," she said.

"I suppose so," he said with a shaky smile.

"Well don't agree so quickly!" she said with mock indignation.

"S-sorry," he replied. "In your defense, what I did was pretty bad... and... well, I don't blame you for not forgiving me."

"What did you do?"

Lowering his eyes, Severus found himself unable to voice what he had happened. His ears burned red and shame filled him. Perhaps, he really was dead and this was his personal St. Peter asking him to confess his sins.  
  
"That bad, huh?" Lily asked after a long bout of silence. He looked up a little and nodded, embarrassed.

"Alright, alright," she said at last. "You don't have to tell me. Back to the dream."

"In my dream world," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words. "We fought… against each other… and then… you died."

"We fought and I died? What—did you kill me?!"

He nodded; his eyes downcast and serious once more.

"Yes," he said quietly. "In my dream… yes, it was my fault you died."

She stared intently at him, with her brow furrowed, but remained silent. He took a steadying breath before speaking again, his eyes focused on the ground.

"When you died," he continued. "I couldn't… stand… to live. I didn't want to live. I fought against the darkest of enemies in the most reckless of ways… just to make amends. In the dream, you had a son. I gave my life protecting your son… even though he fought with me the whole time... even though I couldn't stand to be around him... even though I couldn't see you or talk to you… but I… I just… I just wanted you to forgive me… I just… wanted…"

It was impossible to go on; his eyes and throat burned.

He looked up at Lily. Though still puzzled, her eyes were full of that mercy he had longed for when he was dying; the same eyes that had carried him into this strange death. They looked at each other in silence for what felt like, to Severus, an eternity.

"Well," she said at last. "I forgive you for whatever wrong you dreamed that you did to me, Sev. And for anything else… ever."

"Yes, but—"

"No," she interrupted firmly. "I… I hope you know we're still friends. Dream or no, I should hope that I always forgive you, Severus."

She smiled at him, and he thought that he would die all over again. She was saying the words he had longed for a lifetime to hear, as if it was no big deal. As though, mending his crumpled spirit was an everyday, commonplace thing.

"Now, you said I had a son in the dream, right?" she asked, suddenly changing the subject. "Who, uh, was the father?"

"James Potter," he replied, flatly.

She laughed, and it was a golden sound.

"Well, now I  _KNOW_  that it was nothing but a ridiculous dream," she cried out. "Potter?! That's crazy!"

Severus gave her a weak smile. He knew that— if he was indeed in 1976— that it would only be a matter of time before that dreaded event would become real life; no matter how much she denied it.

 _Maybe this is hell_ , he thought.  _Maybe I must live it all over again…_

But then, he couldn't remember any of this moment under the tree, nor her forgiveness and kind words. This was all new. What did that mean?

"Lily," he said, interrupting her laughter. "Why did you wake me up?"

"Oh," she exclaimed. "I almost forgot! I came to ask you to go with me to Diagon Alley tomorrow morning. My uniform is getting too short, and I don't have my books yet."

He had no memory of Diagon Alley in 1976. As he recalled, he had worn his robes from the previous years and his books had all been borrowed. Coming from a poor family, this was not an uncommon occurrence. He found it strange that Lily would be asking him to go with her.

"Why me?" he asked. "I'm sure many of your other… schoolmates… would be happy to join you."

"Yes, well," she said, standing up, turning away from him to face the sun, and stretching her arms. "I have seen so little of you this summer and... I guess… I was worried. You really are one of my best friends, you know? And, I just... I haven't seen you. It's just… I... you've been so distant lately. We used to spend whole summers together and now..."

 _Of course_ , he thought darkly.  _I was delving into the Dark Arts this year and kissing the asses of future Death Eaters... Severus, you idiot..._

"This tree used to be our secret meeting place, remember?" she was saying. "I didn't know you would be here. I just… came here because I was hoping you would be."

She turned around to face him.

"And lucky me!" she said, smiling triumphantly. "Here you are! Just like magic."

He stared at her, silhouetted by the setting sun; her skin glowing and her hair a flame. She was the most wonderful, fierce, gracious, absurd thing he had ever seen in all his life; a viable Phoenix in human form.

"Like magic," he repeated, making her blush with the intensity of his gaze.

"Yeah, well, anyways," she began awkwardly. "You will come? …won't you?"

"Of course," he replied.

"Good," she said simply. Then, grinning, she added, "I don't suppose asking you to come with me for some chips would be pushing my luck?"

"Oh," he said, faking indifference and making her laugh. "I suppose if I absolutely must."


	2. Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.

It felt very odd to be in his old room again. Then again, being alive and young felt odd too, especially considering he had been old and dead only a few hours ago.

His whole room seemed to be covered in a layer of dust. Beneath his rusted windowsill was a single bed; its quilt brown and worn from use. Strewn about the wooden floors of the room were books piled into towers. Potion bottles in unmarked boxes were stacked in corners. There was an old desk with a dim lamp and miniature cauldron sitting upon it. Beside these items was a solitary picture frame holding a Polaroid of him and Lily when they were nine. They each had an arm over each other, laughing and trying to walk in unison, like some four-legged monster.

At the moment, the house was empty, which he was grateful for. He wasn't sure what emotions he would feel if he saw his mother—or worse, his father. He needed to get his bearings and understand his situation first.

He walked from his room into the hall. The worn carpet was a very unfortunate green-pea color, and the wallpaper was a moldy cream pattern. The photographs on the wall did not move at his presence, as they were not enchanted. Neither did any subject in them smile, save for a small and blurry photo of himself as a shy, grinning toddler. If he had followed the hallway to his left, it would have led him into the sitting room. Directly in front of his room, was the doorway to the washroom. Walking forward and flipping on the light switch, he was able to examine his face in the dirty mirror about the rust-lined sink.

He was fifteen alright. His hair was greasy, long, and unmanageable. His thin, sallow face shined with a layer of oil. He had been fortunate in that acne was never too much of a problem for him, but that sheen of oil seemed to plague most of his teenage years. It gave him a wet, sour look. In his youth, he had never attempted to improve his appearance. He had been more focused on cultivating his other qualities. However, now that he was—mentally at least—an older man, his lack of upkeep annoyed him.

Fortunately, he had learned a spell in his early twenties that had solved this minor, hygienic problem. However, that had been eighteen-some years ago. His old brain, though in such a young body, needed a moment to recall the words. Searching his pockets, he found his wand. Like himself, it was young and unbroken. Scratching the back of his head with the tip of his wand, he began to search his mind for the memory of the spell.

"Ah," he said, remembering at last. " _Mundum vultus_."

With a flick of his wand, the oil on his face magically dried up. While his skin was still rather pale, he no longer appeared sickly. His hair, also, began to trade its greasiness for a more washed, normalized texture. For such small changes, they were a vast improvement for his overall appearance; though all things considered, he would never be what was considered handsome. His nose was still large and broken. His face was naturally too thin, sharp-featured, and dour-looking. All of these faults he was very aware of and heaven help the man who mentioned them.

Taking off his black tunic, he examined his pale, skinny, teen-aged body. When he had been an older man, he had developed a slightly more healthy, athletic build. He needed this to keep himself useful in both Voldemort and Dumbledore's services. His work had involved a great deal of fighting, running, and stealth. A somewhat strong, lean physique had been useful. Now, the only reason muscle could be seen-- if any --was because he lacked any body fat to cover it; he looked underfed. With a sigh, he pulled the shirt back on. 

 _Had it all… truly all been a dream?_  

He stared at himself in the mirror, and the young face stared back. The entirety of his whole life loomed in his mind, like a dreadful map. It couldn't have been a dream. He had died. He was sure of it. He touched the places on his neck where Nagini had bit him over and over. He remembered feeling the searing pain and emptiness. He remembered everything.

So why? Why was he here? Why was he here in 1976? Was this even real? How did this happen?

He suspected that there was some kind of deep magic involved under all these mysteries. Magic not unlike the kind Lily's sacrifice had once been for Harry. Something that witches and wizards alike could not control or understand, but could only stand by and witness. Perhaps, Dumbledore would know _…_

 _Dumbledore..._ he thought. _My god! He's still alive here!_

Turning on the sink, he doused his face with cold water and dried it off with a towel. He suddenly felt very tired. He hadn't slept much since the death of Dumbledore. Even though he was clearly in his past, somehow the future's exhaustion had followed him. He went back into his old room, crawled into his old bed, and promptly fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

Lily Evans sat on the front steps of her home, drinking from a glass bottle of pop and watching the moon rise in the distance. She liked to sit there when she was thinking.

She really hadn't expected to see Severus under the tree today. He had been absent from her that summer, she was beginning to think he was avoiding her, or _worse_ , hanging out with Lucius Malfoy and those other Slytherin cretins. Yet, somehow, he had been under the tree, just as she had hoped he would be. She didn't know what to make of it.

Their meeting had been a strange one. Instinctively, she could tell that something about Severus was different, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. Replaying the scenes in her mind, she couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked at her, and the sweet, sleepy words he had said.

_"…you are far too beautiful to be real."_

She felt her cheeks heat up again. She didn't know what to do with such a statement. She had never had a boy say such a bold, poetic thing to her- especially Severus of all people! He was normally so cynical and serious. Yet, those words had been spoken so honestly. It couldn't have been sarcasm. The words had seemed, to her, almost inappropriate to say to a friend. Almost.

The trip to the chip shop hadn't been as bizarre. He had acted completely normal.

 _He was incredibly quiet,_  she thought to herself, w _hich isn't unusual for Sev, I suppose… but he did seem strangely happy. And that is **very** much unlike him! I haven't seen him look that content since we were kids! I wonder what put him in such a good mood today?_

_But, then again… he was crying when I woke him up? The last time I saw him cry we were eight. What did he mean by that strange dream he told me about?  What unforgivable thing had he done? Why was he telling me about it? What's been going on with him?_

Suddenly, she shook her head to clear out her thoughts, like a dog would shake off water.

"Why am I thinking so much about this?!" she said aloud.

"Are you talking to yourself again?" came Petunia's shrill voice from behind her.

Lily jumped.

"Petunia, you startled me!" she said, hotly. "What do you want?"

Petunia leaned against the door frame, her arms folded. She was wearing a checkered blouse, grey skirt, and an apron. She looked like she had just left the kitchen, as the apron was wet from washing dishes. Her mouth was formed into a grim line, as though she had just swallowed something foul-tasting.

"Mum wants to know how much you're going to need for tomorrow," she said in a feigned bored voice. "A waste of money, if you ask me. Mum shouldn't spend a single pence on that freak school of yours."

Though her temper flared, Lily suppressed the urge to defend her so-called "freak school." She and Petunia had been fighting so much lately that she feared there would be no end to it. It was exhausting.

"Tell her not to worry too much about it," Lily said, trying to keep her tone civil. "I only need a little extra for a new uniform, is all. I can afford my own books."

"Go tell her yourself," replied Petunia, overtly showing her disinterest. "You're not going to make me go with you tomorrow, are you? Mum is baby-sitting for Mrs. Robbins again, so she says she can't."

"Don't worry, Tuney," Lily said with a sigh. "Severus will be taking me tomorrow. You're off the hook."

" _Ugh!_ " Petunia shouted suddenly, making a face. "You're still going with that Snape boy? Even as you magical weirdos go, he's a creep."

"Wh-why would you say that?!" Lily shouted, turning around to face her. 

Petunia sneered. Apparently, she had been hoping she could goad Lily into a fight.

"What?" Petunia replied haughtily. "I only said it because it's true."

"He is _my friend_!" Lily rebutted. Her notorious temper finally getting the best of her. "I don't talk about _your_ friends that way—even if that Vernon boy you're stuck on is the biggest twit I've ever met! Even mum thinks that! So don't talk about Sev that way, especially in front of me!"

Petunia's face burned red at the mention of Vernon. Stepping forward, she pointed at Lily with an accusing finger.

"That Snape boy's a creepy git and you know it!" Petunia shouted.

"He is not!" replied Lily, hotly.

"Yes he is!" Petunia spat. "And you two fucking weirdos deserve each other!"

Lily, shocked, could only stare wide-eyed at her sister. Petunia, as well, seemed slightly surprised at her outburst; neither of them really understood why the other had gotten so worked up.

"Petunia what is _wrong_ with you?!" Lily said, genuinely hurt. "Why do you say such awful things to me?"

"Because—!" Petunia clamped her mouth shut abruptly. Her face reddened again, and she shook her head hastily. "Never mind!" she said, at last. "Just go talk to mum!"

Then, she turned around, and quickly went back into the house.

Lily remained on the front steps for a few minutes longer. The moon was rising now, and patches of stars were appearing in the night sky. She rubbed her eyes.

Slowly, she stood up, brushed the dirt off the skirts of her dress, and went inside the house.


	3. To Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.

Severus stood in front of Lily's home.

It was a two-story, white paneled house with a burgundy door atop a small porch. The windows were closed with navy-blue shutters and trimmed bushes nestled themselves around its perimeter. It was a charming house, even if it was squished and rather small.

He stood there, staring at it.

It was nine o'clock in the morning, and the sky was overcast. During his five-block walk to Lily's house, he had cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella. He was sure it would rain when they arrived in Diagon Alley.

He had gotten up early, disoriented at first. It wasn't until he saw his father, Tobias Snape, drunkenly asleep on their sitting-room sofa that he had remembered when he was. He had paused, and spent a few moments looking at his father; a man who, for him, had been dead for more than twenty years.

Severus looked a great deal like his father. Tobias was an extremely tall, sharp-featured man. Although, compared to his skinny son, he was also much wider and bulkier than Severus could ever be. His father kept his black and silver hair cropped short, which made his large nose and face look more severe. His skin was reddened by the sun and the over-consumption of alcohol. Even in sleep, he looked like an unpleasant character to deal with.

Severus absent-mindedly rubbed his left arm, remembering when this man had, one drunken night, broken his arm in a fit of rage. He had caught Severus practicing charms in his bedroom. It had been enough to set him off. Tobias hated all things magic; he didn't understand it, and he hated things that he didn't understand... or things that made him feel inferior.

Eileen Prince, Severus' mother, had come from a prestigious line of pure-blood wizards. She was a thin, dignified witch who, like her son, had a natural talent for potions and spell-making. Why she had married a violent, ugly Muggle who stifled her magical abilities, Severus never knew.

However, he did remember her crying bitter, silent tears at Tobias' funeral.

These thoughts had made Severus want to leave the suffocating house quickly. He did not want to see his mother's face yet. He knew too much about her tragic life. He didn't know if he could face her with this knowledge. The fact that his father was still alive had been enough to make him want to leave and never come back. He had weighed this option for a moment.

Not able to come to a conclusion, he had decided to postpone his decision. Going to the washroom, he had showered and shaved quickly. Returning to his room, he had found that the only clean-smelling article of clothing in his possession were his Muggle clothes: a pair of jeans that were slightly too large for him, a thick brown belt, and a plain black t-shirt.

Though he resented wearing them, he figured that Muggle clothes were probably for the best, as he had no idea what Lily's travelling plans were.

_Lily…_

His heart had skipped a beat at the thought of seeing her, alive, again. Even if, like his parents, he knew her tragic outcome, there was no feeling of dread in her presence. He had ran out the door, eagerly, with the thought of seeing Lily once more.

Yet, now, as he was standing in front of her house, he felt very fifteen. All of his old fears and insecurities rushed back into his heart.

 _Enough of this!_  He thought angrily to himself, after several minutes had past.  _If you can face a Dark Lord, death, and teaching teen-aged Slytherin idiots about the "facts of life", then you can surely knock on Lily Evan's door!_

Assuming the threatening posture and walk that he had developed as a teacher, he ascended the front steps, determinedly, onto her small front porch. Raising his hand to knock, he was surprised by the door flying open and Lily standing before him. Taking a few steps backwards, he found that his mouth had gone dry. He awkwardly lowered his arm.

"Good morning, Severus!" she greeted him cheerily. "What absolute perfect timing!"

"Ah, yes," he responded awkwardly.

Her hair was down, except for a plaited crown of red locks framing the top of her head. She was wearing a pair of denim flared pants and a cream-colored peasant top. It billowed about her, giving her a very agreeable, care-free look. Hanging on her back was a brown satchel. She looked young, capable, and lovely.

She closed the door and locked it. Together, they descended the front steps and began to walk. After a few minutes, Severus could feel the heat of Lily's eyes upon him and perceived that she was giving him a puzzled stare.

"What?" he said, at last.

"Did you," she began, one eyebrow raised. "Did you do something with your hair?"

"Yes," he replied, curtly.

"It looks really nice," she said with a smile.

Embarrassed over how happy the tiny compliment made him feel, he made no remark. Instead, he cleared his throat.

"So, uh," he began. "Are we going to _walk_ to London?"

Lily looked behind them. They had walked, somewhat aimlessly, about a block away from her house.

"You know," she said, abashed. "Uh, I haven't thought about how we would get there."

"What a Gryffindor statement," he said cynically. "Always action… but never a plan."

"Well you're the very model of a Slytherin," she said, grinning and poking him in retaliation. "Always complaining!"

He rolled his eyes at her. She smiled back, sweetly.

"Well then," he said. "What are our options?"

"Floo powder?"

"If I recall correctly, neither of us have registered fireplaces."

"Right, uh… well, we could take a Muggle bus or train, I suppose."

"I hate crowds… and… people…"

"You see what I mean by complaining!" she giggled.

They continued walking in a very vague direction, side by side but neither touching. Severus, though on the outside appeared calm and emotionless, inwardly felt a torment of feelings. Though this was never its intended use, he was glad of his many years of Occlumency practice.

"The only other option I can think of," Lily said. "Is flight, but I know you don't have a broom."

"I don't need one," he replied automatically.

"What'd you mean?" she asked.

"I can fly without one."

"Yeah right! That's impossible!" she replied, incredulously. Her eyes were sparkling with laughter and curiosity. "You're teasing me!"

"I beg your pardon, but I can," he replied.

"Show me, then," she said, lifting her chin up defiantly.

Folding his arms, he began to levitate some three feet off the ground. When her eyes widened, he flew, in a spiral pattern, several feet higher.

During his time as a Death Eater, he had been personally taught this skill by Lord Voldemort. As far as he knew, he was one of maybe a handful of wizards capable of unaided flight. However, he rarely used the skill. He knew full well that Voldemort only used it for show and that he had expected Severus to use it similarly. Severus, however, had never been—intentionally, at least—showy. To him, in a world of magical transportation, unassisted flight seemed unnecessary.

Lily, however, did not seem to share his sentiments.

"Severus!" she cried, astonished. "That's _amazing!_ How are you doing that?!"

"It's easy," he said, landing beside her.

"Is it a spell?" she asked, looking him over thoroughly. "Are you wearing enchanted clothing? I didn't even see you pull out your wand!"

He frowned. He was quickly realizing that he would need to tone down his abilities, if he was to pass as a normal fifteen-year-old. If he used too much of his power, he would draw attention for sure.

"It's nothing, really," he remarked dismissively. "It's an old magical practice that we don't really need anymore."

"I think it's absolutely fantastic!" she insisted. He shrugged at her comment, but she did not look deterred.

"Right!" she announced. "Let's fly to Diagon Alley, then!"

" _Let's_?" he repeated. "It takes a long time to learn how to fly, Lily."

"That's why you'll carry me, of course."

He stared at her.

"You know," he said, sarcastically. "A Muggle bus may not be as bad of an option, as I have previously judged."

"Oh come on, Sev!" Lily whined. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Somewhere with my stupidity, I'd imagine."

"Oh, come on now! Couldn't we try it just once? Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"It's not happening, Lily."

"Agh! You're such an old man!" she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

Severus turned his back to her. Lily or not, she was still a stubborn teenager. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He sighed.

"Fine," he said, in defeated tones. "But don't complain if you end up falling off of me! I'm not one of your bloody Quidditch brooms."

"Wonderful!" she cried, immediately happy again. Her immediate change in mood made Severus wonder if her pouting had been a farce. But before he could think more on it, Lily suddenly jumped onto his unsuspecting back.

"What—!" he cried. His Occlumency began to slip to reveal some of his embarrassed and frazzled emotions. "What are you doing?!"

"Riding piggy-back," she said matter-of-factly. "Why? Am I too heavy?"

"N-no," he replied, trying to get his footing.

Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and her legs around his waist. He could feel her pushing up against his back, the tightness of her thighs as she clung to him, and the scent of sunflowers wafting from her hair. He felt like a degenerate for appreciating these sensations when, technically, she was only fifteen and his mind was that of a thirty-eight year old. He tried his best not to think on it.

"What are you waiting for?" she said into his ear, causing him to jolt out of his daze. "Let's get going!"

"Y-yes," was his tense reply. "Hold on tightly."

Within a few moments, they were soaring through the air: Severus, upright and rigid, with his arms at his side, mumbling a cloaking spell, and Lily, riding on his back, pulling a map from her satchel and giving him directions to London.

* * *

 

Being a naturally cautious person, Severus landed them in an empty, out-of-the-way alley a few blocks away from the traditional entrance. He had no desire to draw attention from anyone—Muggle or wizard. As accepting as the wizarding community was to anything strange and extraordinary, he felt that a beautiful young girl being carried in on the back of a flying teen-aged boy might cause some commotion.

"That was magnificent," Lily was saying, as she removed herself from his back. "You really are amazing sometimes."

He shrugged as they walked in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. They walked side-by-side. Lily prattled on about the items she needed to purchase, while Severus attempted to silently calm his very old nerves. As they entered through the establishment, he could feel the eyes of the patrons glancing over the light and lovely girl. It made him feel very uneasy. When they emerged to the back of the pub, he tapped an unfollowable pattern on the bricks at the dead end of the alleyway. Pulsating at his touch, the bricks magically began to re-arrange themselves, allowing the two teenagers to enter the enchanting, packed, bustling streets of Diagon Alley. Inwardly, Severus groaned. He should have known that a Friday morning would be this crowded.

"I suggest we advance," he said in an expressionless tone. "After you."

"Thank you, sir," she said, giving him a mock curtsy. He struggled to repress a smile. He had forgotten how mad and cheerful Lily was at this age. The last memories he had of her, alive, had been of a hardened, sorrow-stricken resistance fighter. He had watched her run from Voldemort's attacks behind the impervious face of a Death Eater's mask. The woman-child in front of him now had yet to struggle with such grief.

Following behind her, he looked around, seeing shops and restaurants that no longer existed in his old time. It felt very surreal to be walking these streets with Lily Evans. Looking to his left, he could see that his old favorite potion-supply shop,  _Foxglove and Dragon's Blood_ , was still sitting in between  _Lady Silver's Cauldrons_ and an upscale sweet shop. During his first visit to the Alley, his mother had taken him with her to restock her ingredients. The owner of the shop was a rather infamous potions-master who traveled the world in search of the rarest ingredients. Though the owner rarely visited the store himself, Severus had followed the articles concerning his discoveries for years. The store had always been too expensive for him in his youth, but the wonders it contained had left an impression on him. He wondered why it had shut down.

"Sev!" cried Lily's voice. "Keep up!"

Severus snapped out of his reverie and could see that Lily was quite a ways in front of him amidst the throng of people. Hurriedly, he pushed his way through the rowdy crowd until he, disheveled and grumbling, caught up with her.

"What were you looking at?" she asked. They were side-by-side again, heading in the direction of  _Flourish and Bott's._

 _"Foxglove and Dragon's Blood,"_ he replied. "I've wanted to go in there for… some time now."

"Me too!" said she, excitedly. "I read an article this summer about the owner, Mr. Nocturne, and his discovery of the fox-flame powder in the volcanoes of Japan. He has the most fascinating line of work, don't you think? Travelling the world, looking for rare potion ingredients… inventing new, impossible mixtures… I think that's the most interesting kind of work imaginable!"

She seemed to be looking far away into some distant future that he couldn't see. He could only see the future he had witnessed. Lily had married the disdainful Potter, whose fortune had been so great that she had only needed to be a housewife. Not long after they were married, she had joined the Order and perished. Any dreams she may have had, died with her. These were the facts.

Using Occlumency to conceal his darkening thoughts, Severus responded emotionlessly, "Let's visit the shop after we finish our task."

"Sounds good," she said.

 _Flourish and Bott's_  was, as expected, swarming with Hogwarts students trying to secure copies of the text and tomes required for the upcoming school year. As they approached, Lily dashed ahead, fighting, shoving, and burrowing her way through the wall of children, teenagers, and parents near the entrance.

"Oy! Watch it!" a young witch called after her. Lily, however, either didn't hear or didn't care.

"Such a Gryffindor," Severus muttered aloud, looming outside of the crowd. He had no intention of going inside.

"Who is?" said a dreadfully familiar voice directly behind him.

Turning around, he came face-to-face with Harry Potter. The sight of the boy shocked and disturbed him, causing his expressionless face to slip off its mask of Occlumency. He took a step back.

 _No!_  He thought, desperately.  _I do not want this dream to end!_

"Potter," he said in a barely audible voice. "What… are you… doing here?"

The boy looked puzzled at Snape's reaction.

"Same thing you are, Snivilus," he replied with furrowed brows. "Only I don't look like I've just shit my pants."

 _Merlin's Beard! This is isn't Harry,_  Severus thought thankfully.  _This is his ape of a father!_   _He and his assorted groupies were the only ones who ever called me by that imbecilic nickname._

Upon closer inspection, he could now make out James' brown eyes behind rimmed glasses. The thought that he was standing before a young James Potter made he feel oddly relieved. He almost laughed, knowing that he wasn't dreaming. He really was in 1976. This reaction, once again, seemed to confuse James Potter even more, as well as, irritate him.

"What are you on, Snape?" Potter said. "One moment you look like a frightened schoolgirl, and now, well… I almost believe you are happy to see me, you creep! Are you high or did I catch you in the middle of a wank?"

Severus re-focused his Occlumency and straightened his posture. When he had been young the first time, he had been prone to hunch. Now, as he stood up to full height, he realized that he was actually a bit taller than James. His years of teaching had given him the ability to be imposing and commanding; something that his younger self never had the confidence to acquire.

"On the contrary," Severus replied, icily. "I was only frightened of being in close proximity to such a brainless wizard, like yourself. They say Nargles feed off of stupidity, and considering how much you possess, I would hate to be caught in the cross-fire."

James' hand twitched near his wand and his face reddened in anger. However, before he could retort, a young Remus Lupin emerged from the crowded store. He was sweating and carrying two bags worth of books. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked as though he would drop to the ground at any moment.

"James," he said in an exhausted tone. "I was wondering when you would show up. Let's get a move on. I can't stand to be around so many people."

The young wizard didn't move. Feeling that his words were being ignored, Remus turned to see what James was glaring at.

"Oh," he said wearily. "Of course… Snape, hello."

"Remus."

Turning back, he begged, "James, please, I don't have time for this… can't we just go?"

Finally breaking eye contact, James glanced sideways at his friend.

"Yeah, we can go," he replied dismissively. Then, staring back to Snape with angry eyes, he spat out, "We'll talk more at school,  _Snivilus."_

As they two boys walked away, Severus could overhear Remus sigh as James ranted and cursed under his breath. He felt very self-possessed in that moment. The tormentor of his childhood now seemed to be minuscule.

He had always thought him idiotic, but because James always had a group of followers to gang up on him, Severus had never been able to escape their torture. But now, he knew that, no matter how many Potter-lackeys came at him, he could take them on. They were only foolish teenagers-- _children_. He had done more deeds, learned more knowledge, and possessed more power, than all of them combined. If he were his rightful age, they would have been his students and at his mercy. He could feel all of their influence on him being taken away. James Potter was _beneath_ him.

He smirked with pleasure at this thought, as Lily re-emerged from the store.

"There you are!" she called out. "Where have you been?! Did you get your books?"

The sight of Lily reminded him that James still had some power in his life, because here was the future Mrs. Potter, his best friend and deepest love. The weight that had been lifting off of his shoulders, returned. His confidence sobered and the smirk fell from his face. Lily noticed this as she approached him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, titling her head to one side.

"Nothing," he replied emotionlessly. "Don't worry, I won't be needing books. I… I will borrow."

He really had no intention of returning to Hogwarts, other than, perhaps, to see Dumbledore. The thought of re-experiencing the life of a student was repulsive and redundant to him. He would have to re-take classes that he was probably qualified to teach. He would have to suffer Potter's lackeys, Slytherin's elitist hierarchy, and the recruiting tactics of the would-be Death Eaters. He would have to watch Lily be severed from him and joined to James. Furthermore, none of this would help him understand his situation of how he had come to be in 1976.

 _Hogwarts,_  he thought grimly.  _And… maybe even Lily… would be a waste of time._


	4. Foxglove and Dragon's Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.

Lily stood underneath the awning of a chocolate shop. Her satchel was stuffed with her newly purchased books and uniform, and she held it tightly against herself to protect it from the rain. Hopefully, she wouldn't have too wait too long for Severus to return with an umbrella.

It had began to rain immediately after she had been fitted for new robes. Severus had complained that "he knew this would happen."

He had been acting rather stiff since  _Flourish and Bott's_ , but he gave no indication as to why. In the past, she used to find him very easy to read. When he was young, he had always been a very expressive, impassioned boy. Yet lately, whenever she tried to rouse an emotion out of him, he seemed extremely guarded. Today, specifically, she noticed that a strange blankness would drain his features, making him seem devoid of emotion, at times. It was a disturbing new trait.

The warm smell of baking chocolate, coming from the shop she stood near, caused her stomach to grumble. It had to be half past one, and neither of them had stopped for lunch. Pulling out a small money-bag from her pants pocket, she counted out her remaining funds. Thanks to her mother's small contribution of pocket-money, she had enough to purchase something decent.

Leaving her spot, she ducked and weaved under awnings and trees, and in between the huddled pedestrians on the sidewalk, till she came to a shop called  _Crystal's Croissants_. It smelled absolutely heavenly. She ran into the shop a bit wet from the rain; breathless and smiling. Fortunately for her, the shop was empty, save for two old wizards, talking confidentially at a small table over steaming cups of tea.

It was a small but charming shop. Although, it could have been a much more inviting establishment, had it not been for the unfortunate pink-and-orange color scheme it bore.

"What can I get for ya, love?" said a pleasantly fat, curly-haired witch behind the counter. The glass cases beside her displayed many different kinds of breads and pastries; thick trails of steam could be seen rising from their crusts. The sounds of cooking could be heard coming from the kitchen doors just behind the counter, and a large wizard carrying hot plates of cinnamon rolls emerged.

"Two BLT sandwiches, please," Lily said, handing over a few golden coins. "And chips if you have them!"

After a few minutes of waiting, Lily was running out of the door of the shop with a brown paper bag in her hands. Running along under the store awnings, she avoided getting wet until she returned to her place at the chocolate shop.

Standing in front of the shop, looking wet and forlorn, was Severus. His long, black hair was clinging to the sides of his face and his t-shirt was soaked. He held, in one hand, an opened black umbrella, and appeared to be at a loss at what to do. With a fleeting thought, Lily felt he looked strangely endearing. This only lasted for a moment, however, for he frowned once he saw her approaching.

"Where have you been?" he asked, annoyance sharpening his deep voice.

"I bought us lunch," she said. Looking behind him, she spotted an unoccupied stone bench underneath the shop's awning. "Come on, let's eat."

Sitting upon the bench, she opened the bag. Severus, hesitating for a moment, sat beside her and closed his umbrella. His expression was decidedly blank and unreadable. Rustling through the bag, Lily produced the two sandwiches and the hot bag of chips. She handed one of the sandwiches to him. He took it, and tentatively, began to eat.

Feeling ravenous, Lily tucked into the sandwich. The bread was soft and warm, and the bacon was deliciously crispy. She sighed, happily. A comfortable silence fell about them as they ate their lunch together. After finishing her sandwich, she produced the chips. They were still hot.

"I think they may enchant their serving bags at that store," she remarked. "These chips are still piping!"

Severus nodded, crushing his sandwich paper into a ball. His face was still impassive, but he was clearly preoccupied in his mind. 

 _I wonder what he's thinking about all the time,_  she thought.  _I mean, whatever it is, it looks exhausting!_

"Share some chips with me," she said aloud, offering him the bag.

He looked at her. She could tell he wanted to say something, but ultimately did not. Instead, he simply withdrew a handful of chips and continued to eat in silence.

Lily munched a few, thoughtfully. If he didn't get out of this funk, she was going to go mad.

"Shall we head for the  _Foxglove and Dragon's Blood?_ " she asked. "If you're still interested in going, I'd really like to see it."

He tilted his head and seemed to consider it.

"Do you really want to go?" he remarked at last.

"Of course!" she replied, happy to finally get a reaction from him. "When else would I get the chance to see a potion shop like it??"

"I had no idea you were that interested in potions."

"You must be forgetting," she said proudly. "That next to you I'm the best in the class."

"Yes, well… I just had no idea you actually  _enjoyed_  it."

"Of course I do," she said, smiling. She paused for a moment to take another bite of chips.  
  
"Do you remember how excited we were to have that class together during our first year?" she mused. "We used to have such fun, back then. Do you remember when I drew that horrid picture of Slughorn and gave it to you—"

"Which he blamed me for," interrupted Severus. "I had detention for a month…"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "And afterwards, to get back at him, we mixed our first 'Mixture of Forgetfulness' together. We stayed up all night trying to get it right. I remember being so nervous when I put a drop in his tea – but then the next day he came in with no shirt on and his pants on backwards!"

"We didn't have homework the whole week," he supplied, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "He taught the same lesson three times."

"It's a miracle we didn't get caught!" she laughed, and her eyes softened. "But, you know, the thing that I remember most vividly about that whole ordeal was how happy you looked when we were making the potion together. You were so passionate about it and you've always been so good at it… I guess, you could say, a bit of that rubbed off on me."

He stared at her, but made no comment. His expression was serious, but his eyes were gleaming with a strange light.

"After that, I began experimenting on my own," she continued. "I grew to really love the craft. I love how you can brew up miracles like that— just by combining outwardly boring things. It's like, everything in the whole world is magic! Everything has the capacity to become something wonderful—if only you're clever enough to know what to mix and match it up with."

He turned away from her and stared at the people passing by them.

"I've never really thought of it like that," he said quietly. "I suppose you're right."

He stood up and opened the umbrella. It was large enough for the two of them to fit underneath it, comfortably.

"Shall we, then?" he asked, somewhat stiffly.

Lily stood and threw her the remains of the brown sandwich bag into a nearby bin. Severus lifted the umbrella a bit, as she walked up to her place beside him. An unease came over her as walked up to his side, which was odd considering she had rode on his back earlier that morning. She wasn't quite sure why, but being under the umbrella with him made her feel strangely nervous.

It didn't seem to bother him though. His face was, once again, a strange emotionless mask.

* * *

 

 _Foxglove and Dragon's Blood_  was an old establishment on a street of otherwise newer shops. It was a wooden Victorian-styled building with burgundy trim. The sign, which hung low over the entrance, was written with golden letters. On either side of the shop door, large silver pots of lavender and mint grew. The rain made them smell strong and sweet.

Mr. Elias Nocturne was looking out of the front window of his shop. He kept his store in dim light and at cool temperatures in order to preserve the delicate nature of his potion ingredients. He had dark wooden shelves lining the walls, all labeled with the same burgundy and gold. To the back of the store, near an antique cash register, there were locked glass cases. The ingredients contained within were more dangerous, more expensive, and more difficult to find. In the center of the room, large wooden bins filled with various herbs were labeled and clustered together.

If Mr. Nocturne had been anywhere outside of his shop, it would have been very difficult to decipher what his profession actually was. He was a large, capable-looking man; tall and stout. He wore dark grey breeches and a forest-green waistcoat over-top a cream-colored shirt. It went well with his rich, dark skin. His head was completely shaved, and the only hint of his age came from his short, greying beard and wrinkled amber-colored eyes. A thin scar, which ran vertically across his mouth, was the only characteristic that marred his otherwise handsome face. Overall, he looked a very confident, striking, and serious man—

—hardly, a shopkeeper.

His clerk, Alice, was away from her post again. He sighed. Looking out the window, he watched the rain fall. His mouth formed into a hard line. It was not uncommon for his store to be mostly empty, or for his clerks to sneak away from their post. Due to his nature, he hated working behind a desk. In truth, he somewhat hated this shop. It made him feel anxious and closed-in; not to mention bored. When he was young, his father had owned the shop and relied on him to mind the till. After his father's death, he had inherited the property and vowed never to work behind the counter again. Instead, he spent his time making a name for himself, and being anywhere else but here.

 _Perhaps this is why my business is failing…_  he thought ruefully. Although his discoveries were considered ground-breaking, most of them were meant to be used by only the most advanced potion-makers and alchemists. This made his clientele sparse, as typically potions were brewed for a more every-day use. The ingredients he brought in were also very expensive and difficult to come by. All of this, coupled with the fact that he was rarely there to maintain the shop and his employees, did not make for a particularly well-run or profitable business.

Perhaps, he should let the store die. If he were honest with himself, potions were more of a hobby compared to his true work, anyway.

He stroked his short beard at these despairing thoughts.

Usually after the lunch-time rush, the crowds would slowly begin to thin out from Diagon Alley. At the moment, however, the streets in front of his shop were unusually empty. He attributed this to the downpour occurring outside.

Scanning the wet, semi-vacant cobblestone lane, he was slightly surprised to see a young witch and wizard heading towards his door. They were sharing a large, black umbrella and were a decidedly odd-looking pair. The boy's expression was very serious. His limbs were long and his whole appearance seemed devoid of any color other than black. He was also very damp-looking. As Mr. Nocturne observed the boy, he was reminded of the Black Mondo grass he had seen during his travels throughout Japan.

The girl, however, was the complete opposite. Her expressions were vivid and changeable. Mr. Nocturne couldn't tell if she looked nervous or pleased. Her hair was as red as a mulberry. Her appearance was like that of a flower just as it was beginning to bloom; a little green, but with the promise of a great beauty waiting to happen. Why the two were walking together— or why they were making a beeline to his shop— he couldn't fathom.

Not leaving his position by the window, he silently watched as they advanced up the steps of  _Foxglove and Dragon's Blood._  The boy opened the door for the girl, and then turned to shake the water off of the umbrella. The bell above the door gave a small chime, and the girl entered with an expression of awe on her face.

"Hello?" she said in a half-whisper. She didn't seem to notice him standing by the window, just to the left of the door. She walked forward with hesitant steps, looking about the room in a sort of daze. Her friend followed behind her, the umbrella— now closed— in his hands.

Mr. Nocturne folded his arms across his chest.  _Wonderful. A couple of useless teenagers wandering about my store, and Alice is still nowhere to be found! Damn that girl! I suppose I will have to manage them, myself_ , he thought.

As if his thoughts were heard, the boy turned in his direction. The young wizard maintained a somewhat vacant expression, but his eyes widened slightly with recognition.

"Ah," the boy said in an unusually deep voice. "Mr. Nocturne, sir."

He gave a slight nod of the head, as the girl whipped around in their direction.

"M-Mr. Nocturne?!" she all but shrieked. " _THE_  Mr. Nocturne?!"

Running over to him, she was nearly trembling with excitement.

"I am SUCH a fan of yours sir!" she babbled enthusiastically. "I've been following your exploits ever since I read about your work with Salamander Blood in the 1973 article of  _Wizard's Weekly_! I think your adventures are fantastic! You're brilliant! Oh! And I absolutely loved reading your journals about your trip to Japan! Oh, oh! And was it just me or did you and that witch you met there, Asami, seem to more than just friends? Huh?"

Mr. Nocturne frowned.

"Girl, do you always babble like this?" he asked her.

"Usually," the boy mumbled, earning him an embarrassed elbowing from the girl.

"Sev!" she said to the boy. "Don't embarrass me in front of Mr. Nocturne!"

The boy's face remained expressionless at her response. Apparently this "Sev" was very good at controlling emotions; perhaps too good. If he wasn't so young, Mr. Nocturne could've swore he was wearing the mask of Occlumency. He stared at the two of them.

"Well then," he began. "What can I help you with?"

"Uh," the girl replied, sheepishly. "Nothing really. We're both just very fascinated in your work, and we've been meaning to visit your shop."

"Interested in potions-making, I presume then?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice laced with pride. "We are the top Potions students in our year."

"Is that so?" he replied in a somewhat condescending tone, although he truly didn't mean it. He was actually rather amused and pleased by the youngster's eagerness. It was refreshing. After a moment's thought, Mr. Nocturne began to walk to the back of the shop, to a door located behind the register and in between the glass cases. Pausing at the door, he turned.

"Follow me then, young potion-masters," he said to them. "This may interest you."


	5. Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.

Mr. Nocturne walked quite gracefully for such a large man. His steps were determined and light, like that of a dancer. Severus watched him warily.

The older man approached the backroom door and whispered a pass-code, releasing it from whatever magical lock that had been in place. It creaked open, and he stepped inside. Lily bounded after him without a moment's hesitation, much to Severus' irritation. With a resigned sigh, he begrudgingly followed after her.

The back room was surprisingly large. It was also mostly dark, save for a strange purple and golden glow that seemed to emanate from further in. Severus stood beside Lily at the entrance. Collectively, the two teens gasped and gawked at what they saw.

Shelves of the most incredible ingredients, in thousands of vials, lined glittering golden walls. Faint chiming sounds, low whistling, muffled gnashing, and an assortment of music could be heard if one listened close enough. Plants and vines seemed to cling to the golden wallpaper. A few cages containing small beasts rumbled as they approached. Tanks of water contained the still-beating hearts of who-knows-what. There was a tree, burning with a perpetual fire, in the center of the room.

The room, itself, seemed to be pulsing with life. The air, itself, tasted of magic. Severus had never seen or felt anything like it.

"This is the 'Collecting Room,'" Mr. Nocturne was saying, in a bored voice. "Everything I find during my travels—anything odd, out of place, or unnatural—I bring here."

"This… this is incredible!" Lily said breathlessly.

"Most of these— _items_ —for lack of a better word," continued Mr. Nocturne. "Are uncatalogued. They are simply stored here until I have time to sort through them." He chuckled darkly. "However, out of all my potions and ingredients, I have yet to be able to store and bottle  _time_. And so here they are. Twisted and mixed into a sort of disorderly zoo!"

Lily was staring intently at a vase full of flowers that seemed to be made of lightning. Severus, without turning away from Mr. Nocturne, pulled her back before she touched one. She cast him a sheepish look, but he pretended not to notice.

"Why don't you hire someone to do it for you?" Severus asked, curiosity getting the better him. "Surely you can find a witch or wizard who would be willing?"

"Anyone is willing to do anything for coin," Mr. Nocturne said, gruffly. "The problem is I need someone who will work  _with_  me, not for me. And—believe me when I say this, boy—finding someone you can trust is worth a great deal more than money. You will learn this as you get older."

Severus gave him a small smile.

"I think I know what you mean," he said softly. Mr. Nocturne said nothing, but stared at him with an odd expression.

"Sev!" Lily called out, excitedly. "Look at this!"

Severus walked further into the magically-charged room. Lily was standing next to a small, faintly glowing cage. Inside was something that looked like a weasel made entirely of light. It was curled up upon itself and it looked up into Lily's face with large, sparkling eyes. It made small little grunting noises that seemed to delight Lily a great deal. She was grinning from ear to ear, and the creature's light illuminated her face in a pleasing way.

Severus caught himself staring at her, and forced himself to turn his gaze back at the strange little creature.

"What do you think it is?" Lily asked him, smiling.

"It's a Shadow Mink," Mr. Nocturne said, walking up behind them. "They are extremely rare and live mostly in the caverns of Australia."

"Why are they called 'Shadow Minks'?" Lily inquired. "There's nothing shadowy about it. It's practically a lamp!"

"Ah, well, you see, they call it the 'Shadow Mink' because it feeds on shadows," Mr. Nocturne explained. "You can find them in dark areas, like caves or holes, where they can consume the darkness around them. Their body absorbs the shadows and then converts it into light. Similar to how plants absorb carbon dioxide and release oxygen. However, unlike plants, it's impossible to scientifically explain their conversion processes. If a Muggle were to find one, they would most likely lose their heads over it! Their bodies are made of pure magic, and so, it functions magically."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Not at all, young lady," replied Mr. Nocturne, and reaching into his pocket, produced a set of elaborate keys. Unlocking the cage, he reached inside and grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck. It was odd to see his hand grasp what looked intangible, but the creature's light-fur remained solid in his hold.

He held up the Shadow Mink and peered for a moment into its large, starry eyes. He turned to Lily.

"What is your name, girl?" he asked.

"It's Lily, sir."

"Well, Miss Lily, hold out your arms."

She did as she was told, and Nocturne handed the creature to her. Severus watched her as she cradled the small beast. It crawled up her arm with a chirrup and nestled itself under her hair. She laughed in delight.

Severus felt the heat of Mr. Nocturne's gaze, although he feigned being totally absorbed with Lily and the Shadow Mink. When he finally turned his head to look at him, Nocturne's expression was decidedly puzzled. It was if he was trying to solve a riddle. Severus regarded him blankly, staring back.

"Such a sweet little thing!" Lily cooed as she stroked the creature's small face. Slowly, Nocturne tore his gaze away from Severus' face and looked back at Lily.

"Just so," he replied. "Perhaps you would like to take her off my hands?"

"What?!"

"I'm not one for pets, neither do I believe a creature such as this one should be caged up," Nocturne paused and gave Severus a knowing look. "I will let you take care of it for me in exchange for a report on its habits and anything else you may discover. My intent when capturing it was purely for study and to perhaps understand its properties. A spell or potion that could convert one thing into another without an additive would be invaluable. However, as mentioned, I do not have the time."

Looking back at Lily, he smiled gently. It was a lonely, sincere sort of thing. It gave Severus the impression that Nocturne was not the sort of man who smiled often.

"So then, will you care and study her for me?" he asked.

"Oh sir!" Lily exclaimed. "Thank you so very much! Of course I will! Thank you!"

"Very good then," he replied, his smile fading. He turned and faced Severus once more.

"Boy," he said to him in a very commanding tone. "What is your name?"

"Severus Snape," he responded. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled under the man's gaze. He felt the tickle of Legilimency attempt to probe his mind. The attempt was gentle, and Severus almost smirked at how easy it was to block it. Nocturne's eyes widened and Severus realized his mistake.

 _Damn_ , he thought to himself.  _What are you doing?!_   _You're **fifteen**  Severus. Only fifteen!_

Quickly, he brought down his mental blocks and conjured forth the memory of his and Lily's day at Diagon Alley. He hoped that this would be enough to convince Nocturne that there was nothing unusual about him. He was a  _normal_  teenager.

Nocturne's brows furrowed, but he said nothing for a long while. Lily, finally realizing that something serious was happening between the two, glanced nervously between them.

"Well, Mister Snape," Nocturne said, at last. "You say you are the top of your class in Potions?"

"Yes sir."

"Let's test that, shall we? What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Severus blinked and replied, "You would make a powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death."

"Very good. Now, where would you look if I tell you to find me a Bezoar?"

 _What the hell...?_   Severus thought.  _These… questions…?_

"A Bezoar," Severus said slowly, suspicion and confusion accenting his voice. "Is a stone, taken from the stomach of a goat and it can save you from most poisons."

Nocturne's eyes were glittering with a strange light as he nodded approval. Lily stared at them in a sort of trance, clutching the Shadow Mink tightly. The tension between the two seemed to make the magic of the room intensify.

"Correct again, Mister Snape," Nocturne said. "What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

At the third question, Severus was internally shaken. It was as if the reality about him was cracking, and he felt a cold, terrible fear crawl up his spine. He turned his Occumelency on high.

 _These questions…_  he thought to himself.  _Are the same three I asked Harry Potter on his first day…? Why… Oh Merlin… what does this mean?!_

"Sir… I…" he began. "I fail to see why—"

"Answer me, boy," Nocturne commanded.

"They are the same plant," Severus replied, eyes flashing. "It also goes by the name of Aconite."

"Good!" Nocturne exclaimed, stepping forward and gripping Severus by the shoulders. "Mister Snape, how would you like a job?"

* * *

 

It was raining lightly as they flew through the sky. Lily gripped Severus tightly with her legs and her one free arm that held the umbrella above them both. In her other arm, she held a covered cage containing the Shadow Mink. Mr. Nocturne had warned her to cover it tightly, as light of any kind could make it very weak.

Severus hadn't spoken since their departure. He stared fixedly in front of him.

"Sev," she said beside his ear, causing him to twitch slightly. "You're… you're not considering it, are you?"

"Becoming an apprentice to one of the greatest Potion Masters of our time? Leaving the horrors that await me at Hogwarts behind? Following a career that suits my passions?" He glanced sideways at her. "Not at all, why do you ask?" he said sarcastically.

"Sev, you can't!"

"And why not?" he replied.

"Because it's  _Hogwarts_ , Sev! How could you even think of leaving?!"

"Lily… you don't… understand…"

"What don't I understand?" she demanded.

He grimaced and seemed to be debating internally. It was a while before he could speak again, and when he did, his voice was quiet and strained.

"There is  _nothing_  for me at Hogwarts, Lily," he said. "There never was..."

"That's nonsense! Hogwarts is like.. is like home!"

"Is it?" he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm in a house built on hierarchy and purity. I'm hounded by those in my house to participate in subjects I find… unsavory… yet if I don't fall in line, I'm an outcast. I'm tormented by anyone with an itch outside of Slytherin. I have to walk the same hallways, sit in the same classrooms, and eat in the same hall as Potter—who will not rest until I'm either maimed or expelled.

I'm constantly blamed by teachers for things I have had no say in, and I'm bored by classes that are beneath me intellectually. I have no home to go to during vacations. No mother or father eager for me to return. I am helpless to my situation and my fate. I have no future for me that doesn't end in pain—!"

He seemed to be talking to himself at this point. Lily could see he was running himself out of breath in frustration and anger. She hadn't seen him do that since they were young; perhaps, he had never spoken this way before. It seemed his expressionless mask was starting to slip.

"Sev," she began, trying to adjust her other arm to embrace him. The cage began to slip, but before she could catch it—it was tumbling towards the earth.

"S-Sev!" she cried, leaning backwards to catch it, and losing her grip on him.

He turned his body, as though to grab her with one hand, but she was already falling.

The wind and rain whipped about her. She hadn't realized how high they really were until this moment, as she saw the countryside rushing upwards to meet her. The umbrella was forgotten, and both of her arms clutched the covered cage. Her eyes stung. She heard a noise whistling past her ears. It took her a moment to register that it was her scream tearing through the evening air.

As she plummeted towards death, she couldn't seem to form the words to cast either a spell or a coherent thought. It was all panic, all fear, and all regret.

 _Regret?_   She finally thought.

Though it was only a few moments, the fall felt like an eternity. She squeezed her eyes shut.

And then…

And then… she was being scooped up into a pair of strong arms. She was being pressed tightly to a firm chest. The fall began to slow, and then, it wasn't falling at all.

She opened her eyes against the rain, and looked up.

Severus, his black hair wet and clinging to his face, was looking down at her. He was breathing heavily and looked as though he couldn't decide whether to cry or scream. She was being held in his arms, one supporting her back and the other in the crook of her legs. His grip on her was almost painful.

"W-what the hell is wrong with you?!" he sputtered. He looked lost, afraid, and furious. "Why are you always so fucking reckless?! Do you  _WANT_  to die, Lily?! Well? Do you?!"

"Severus," she meekly began. "I—I'm sor—"

"Don't!" he interrupted her in a loud, angry voice. Then, looking into her eyes, she felt him tremble faintly. "Don't…" he said again, weakly.

Lowering his gaze, he let himself bury his forehead into her shoulder. Lily stared at the top of his dark head. Tears began to prick her eyes.

"You're  _all_  I have…" she heard him whisper in an uncertain voice. "Please, don't— don't—"

Whatever it was he wanted to say, died on his lips. His grip tightened around her.

 _Is there really no one for him other than me?_   Lily thought to herself, and it was a thought she had never allowed to cross her mind before. 

She had only saw what he allowed her to, but she now admitted to herself that she had never tried very hard to look. As he clung to her, she realized he was clinging to the only person he was truly loyal to: the only person who treated him with a kindness he would accept.

And whether it was because of her near-escape with death, or simply the weight of the moment, she suddenly realized, with terrible clarity, how shallow her take on their friendship had been. Sev was right. She  _didn't_  understand.

She began to cry. With the covered cage nestled on her lap, she threw her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his hair. "Sev, I'm sorry."

She wanted to say more, but she found that she couldn't. Instead she repeated the words, "I'm sorry" as though they were a chant.

Severus slowly lifted his head; his face, once again, a empty mask. She looked up into his eyes, as tears and rain streaked down her own. He sighed.

"Let's get you home," he said at last.


	6. Is That All?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.

They hadn't spoken since he caught her, falling, in his arms. Severus didn't trust himself to speak. Lily seemed lost in thought. She was still clinging to him.

The weight and feel of her was both glorious and heartbreaking. Severus felt his emotions fighting to be free, but he forced them to remain hidden. Another break down would be the last thing he needed. They landed in front of Lily's house; both of them dripping wet from the rain. He set her down gently, and reluctantly let her go. He felt emptier for it, though he could hardly believe it possible.

"Sev?" Lily said at last, as he stepped back to give them distance.

He stared at her.

"I didn't think about it before, but you won't… you won't get in trouble for flying us, will you?"

"Why would I be in trouble?" Severus asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Well, because," Lily started, uncertainly. "We're both still underage… and you're performing magic…"

"Oh," was all he said, his eyes widening slightly. He hadn't thought of that. He was so used to being an adult and performing spells, that he had forgotten the Ministry's rules for young wizards. He had already cast quite a few spells even before they left, and yet he hadn't received any sort of reprimand at all. Why was that?

"I'm sure the Ministry is too busy this time of year to pay attention to every wizard," he said to her, even though he really had no idea. "It's nothing to worry about."

Lily nodded and seemed to be satisfied with the answer. Severus watched her shift from one foot to the other. Her focus seemed to be at the ground. The light, drizzling rain continued to fall, but she made no move to go inside.

"Lily, you better go in," he said.

She nodded in agreement but didn't move; lifting her head a little, she stared at him wide-eyed. Unsure what to do, Severus simply stared back. Their eyes locked for a few moments, and for a moment, it seemed as though she was going to say something.

But she didn't; she looked away.

Clutching the covered cage, she walked inside her house without another word.

Severus stared after her for a while. When he was quite sure she was safely inside, he dropped his Occumelency mental shields. His face displayed a torrent of emotions and his breath came out in shallow gulps of air. He looked as though he was in pain, and he wrung his fingers through his hair.

He needed to stay away from Lily Evans.

Quite suddenly, it seemed obviously clear what he had to do next; he just didn't know if it was foolish or wise.

With a deep breath, Severus calmed himself and apparated to Hogsmeade.

* * *

 

His jeans were clinging to his legs by the time he reached Hogwarts. The rain had officially soaked him through. When he stood at the base of the castle, debating whether he should go in through the main entrance or to simply fly, he cast a drying spell upon himself—almost absent-mindedly.

 _I suppose it doesn't matter whether I walk or fly_ , he thought.  _I might as well go with the quicker of the two..._

Severus levitated a few feet upwards and looked around. The sun was low in the sky, shining red through the clouds, beckoning the evening. From his location, the lake and Hogsmeade were at his back. In front of him were the main entrance and the East wings of the castle. It seemed eerily vacant, but he knew better. Dumbledore had always insisted that the staff arrive a few days prior to the start of the fall semester. These days usually consisted of paperwork, meetings, scheduling, and a re-organization of the curriculum. For everything Dumbledore was, he  _was_  quite good at building a thorough educational system.

Confident that he would not be spotted, Severus flew directly to the balcony outside the Headmaster's tower. Dumbledore had always kept it unlocked—and apparently he didn't lock it in this timeline either. Severus lifted the latch to the lattice-door and stepped inside the office.

He felt very nostalgic for a moment, for the room was very decidedly Dumbledore's. The tapestries and paintings, the books, the candles, the cluttered desk, and the throne-like chair were all as Albus preferred. When Severus had become headmaster, he had been forced to change it all. Now, as he looked about the room, he could feel a soft sort of sadness come over him.

"You there!" called out one of the paintings. "How did you get in here?"

"A student?" cried another. "Good heavens! We must get Albus at once!"

"A Slytherin if I ever saw one," yet another bellowed. "You best not touch a damn thing, boy!"

Severus ignored them and walked directly to the perch beside the desk, where Fawkes sat serenely. He had not seen the creature since Albus' death, and his eyes glistened at the sight of him. Fawkes seemed to regard him calmly and a little curiously.

"Hello again," he said to the bird. He reached out and scratched under the creature's golden beak. Fawkes closed his eyes in pleasure and tilted his head back to give Severus better access.

"Same as ever," Severus said with a grin. "A glutton for pampering."

Fawkes made a sound in his throat, almost like a purr, making Severus chuckle a little.

"Dumbledore!" called out one of the paintings. "It's about time you showed up!"

Severus turned away from the phoenix and faced the older wizard, blankly. Dumbledore walked into the room with a slightly puzzled expression. He wore a rich crimson robe with a shimmering design layered on top of it. His long, grey beard had small braids woven throughout it. On his head, he wore a burgundy cap with a pearl pinned to it. At the sight of the old man, a bittersweet emotion flowed through him.

"Mister Snape," Dumbledore said calmly. "I'm afraid you've arrived a bit early for classes. Rather eager, aren't we?"

"Not exactly, Albus," Severus replied, his Occumelency shields on high. "I'm here to give you information, to ask a favor, and then… to leave."

At the sound of his first name, Dumbledore balked slightly. It was evident from his expression that he was trying to understand the situation around him, but he could not quite grasp it.

"Albus?" he said with a small smile. "Very audacious of you, Mister Snape. Did I give you permission to use my given name?"

"Yes sir," Severus replied, confidently. "And I have used it for many years—though not yet."

Dumbledore frowned, causing Severus to smirk a little. He knew how much Albus hated not being fully aware of, or in control of, a situation.

"Forgive me, dear boy," Dumbledore said. "Explain yourself plainly, for I must be too old to keep up with your meaning."

"Very well, sir," Severus said, in a calm and serious voice. "I am currently housing the mind of Severus Snape from the future—or more likely,  _a_  future—who has awakened in the body of this time period."

Dumbledore blinked and stared intently at him. After a moment or two, he silently turned towards one of his bookcases. Opening a glass case lining one of the shelves, he pulled out a bottle of Sherry and a silver goblet. He poured himself a generous amount and sat in one of the armchairs located before Severus. He motioned for Severus to sit in one of the armchairs as well.

"If you don't mind, Severus," Dumbledore said, conversationally. "Begin from the beginning, and permit me a drink or two. I find alcohol quite useful when listening to subjects that require an open mind."

"Of course, sir."

Severus then recounted his life, death, and awakening under the tree. Dumbledore listened intently, only stopping the story to occasionally refill his drink. By the time he was finished in his telling, the clock was striking ten o'clock, the fireplace had lit itself, and the paintings were asleep.

Dumbledore was silent and stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Can you provide me proof?" he asked Severus, a fiery gleam in his ancient eyes. "Can you give me evidence for your claim?"

Severus paused, thinking.

"I have my memories," he said, quietly.

"Let us have a look," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the pensive. The two stood up and walked to corner of the office containing the pedestal and basin. The shelves around it contained vials and vials of memories—not all of them Dumbledore's. When Severus had become headmaster, he had thrown most of them away. He had not wanted to know Albus' secrets.

Producing a vial, Dumbledore handed it to Severus. After a few minutes of carefully selecting his memories, Severus poured them all into the vial.

Dumbledore took it, shook it around a little, and then poured it into the pensive. Without a moment's hesitation, the elder wizard dipped his face into the shimmering water.

Although for Dumbledore it would seem like lifetimes, for Severus it was only a minute before he resurfaced from the memory-filled basin.

Tears were streaming down the old man's face and he was breathing hard.

"My… my God…" Dumbledore whispered. He looked as though he would be sick. With a shudder, his countenance regained its composure, and he gazed at Severus with glistening eyes.

"Severus," he said, in an awed voice. "My boy… I am so sorry."

He moved as though to embrace the younger man, but Severus took a step back. Dumbledore lowered his arms and stared at him.

"There is nothing to be sorry about, Albus," Severus said, his Occumelency masking his pained emotions. "I was an adult. I made my decisions. I chose to follow you to your death and mine. Though you never said… I knew… I  _know_  you never wanted it to be that way… that… that understanding was enough— _is_  enough."

"It is one thing to order a grown adult who has committed treachery into the jaws of death," Dumbledore replied softly. "It's another to stand in front of the lonely boy you were and…  and know that I would someday forget…"

Dumbledore shook his head, removed his spectacles, and wiped his eyes. Replacing the glasses, he looked at Severus once more and nodded sagely.

"I need you to prove your claim once more, my dear boy," Dumbledore said gently. "I apologize. I know it is highly unlikely, but memories can be tampered with if the wizard is skilled enough. And I can see that you are skilled enough…  _more_  than enough… therefore, I need additional confirmation."

"What do you suggest?"

Dumbledore paused and stoked his beard.

"How old is your body?" he asked.

"I think I'm fifteen… almost sixteen."

"How old were you before you died?"

"Thirty-eight."

The elder wizard smiled. Severus almost smiled with him, simply for the fact that the man  _could_  smile because he was alive. Severus was not a murderer… or at least, not yet.

"Very well then," Dumbledore said. "Simply perform a spell for me."

"A spell?" Severus asked, eyebrows furrowed. "It doesn't matter what kind?"

Dumbledore nodded and waited.

Severus appeared confused, but obediently stepped away from the pensive and faced the greater portion of the office. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he raised it slightly up from the ground. Lowering his Occumelency, he pushed forward one emotion—one powerful, sublime emotion.

" _Expecto Patronum,"_ he whispered, like a lover.

Light burst from his wand, energetic and bright. The young silver doe emerged, leaping and dancing with joy. Although Dumbledore had seen it in the pensive, he looked at the doe and boy with wonder.

The doe pranced away into the night, fading against the light of the pale moonbeams coming through the lattice and the rain.

Severus stared after it, as if in a daze. Dumbledore walked up to him, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Very good, my boy," he said. "I think I believe you now."

Severus turned his head, looking at him. "Why do you believe me… now… and not before?" he asked.

Dumbledore stoked his beard thoughtfully.

"As I said a moment ago," he began. "Memories can be tampered with, but—" Dumbledore chuckled. "Bureaucratic law is much more difficult to befuddle."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm both surprised and a little relieved, Severus, that you don't, in fact, know  _everything_ ," Dumbledore said with a grin. "What I mean is that the Ministry's magic recognizes you as the adult you claim to be. You see, the spell that checks on the use of underage magic doesn't check the age of the body—it checks the age of the magic. In this way, if an underage wizard is under the effects of, say, a  _Polyjuice_  Potion, or something similar, they still cannot use spells without being caught.

Magic grows with us. Like your taste for food or your ear for music. If you recall, when you were young, you could not control your magic, you barely knew what it was—now you know it like an extension of yourself. I've often said that we don't teach you how to have magic here at Hogwarts. You  _already_  have it! Every witch and wizard contains magic within themselves: their own magic, unique to only them. What we teach is how to recognize that magic and how to control it through spells.

You have the magic of a thirty-eight year old Severus, just as you claim. And that is something fifteen year old Severus could never achieve— no matter how hard he studied. I have heard of no ways to mature the magic of a wizard without the aid of time and experience. Therefore, what can I do but believe you?"

Severus was silent. What Dumbledore was saying made sense, although he suspected it was far more complicated than how it was explained. He would have to look into it, himself, later. For now, as long as he was believed, it did not matter.

"Severus, would you permit me to inform a fellow wizard of your situation?" Dumbledore asked, his expression serious once more. "He is an expert in the art of time magic, and he may be of use."  
  
Severus frowned, "Can he be trusted, sir?"

"Indeed he can," Dumbledore replied. "I would trust him with my life."

Severus nodded. 

"Very well, Albus... but no others, please. I will not become a specimen to be experimented on."

"I imagine you wouldn't," Dumbledore chuckled. "So, then, what now?"

"As I said, I came to give you information, ask a favor, and then leave."

"Very well," Dumbledore replied. "You have given me information. So what is the favor?"

"I wish to take my NEWTs and leave this school for good," Severus said, emotionlessly. "Immediately, if possible."

"Although I am sorry to see you leave, I understand. Consider it done," said Dumbledore. "What will you do then?"

Severus looked at the Headmaster, his voice as serious as death.

"I will destroy Voldemort," he said. 

"Oh?" said Dumbledore, incredulously. "Is that all?"


	7. Spinner's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.

The early morning sun cast a thin, grey light upon Spinner's End. Overcast clouds hung low and stubborn in the air. A flock of dark birds had been flying in formation above the house, only to settle a few feet away upon the dead grass. Pecking and cawing, they searched for some sort of breakfast among the weeds.

Severus stood in the pothole-filled street, taking in the scene. He was wearing the same Muggle clothing he had worn to Diagon Alley. Slung over his shoulder was a black, worn satchel. He sighed, wearily. He had been gone for three whole days and four nights, but he still didn't feel ready to face everything that was before him. It was all too surreal and painful.

Regardless of how he felt, he clutched his satchel straps and slowly walked up the path to his front door. Turning the knob, he wasn't surprised to find it carelessly unlocked. The door softly creaked as it opened.

From the front hallway one could turn either left to the sitting room, or walk straight ahead towards the kitchen. From the entryway, Severus could see straight into the kitchen, where a thin woman wrapped in a threadbare shawl hunched over the oven. She was trying to light the stove-top and boil water in a kettle. At the sound of the closing door and his quiet steps, the woman visibly jumped. With wide eyes, she turned and faced him.

"Severus," she whispered, tightly clutching her shawl. Her voice sounded like it was covered in dust and tears.

"Mum," he replied gently. He tried to smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.

Once, when he was a little boy, Severus had discovered a hidden, enchanted black-and-white photograph of his mother in an old chest-of-drawers. It depicted a moving image of young Eileen Prince standing and hugging another young witch. Her normally solemn expression would briefly shine with youth and laughter. She was wearing an elegant gown and pearls. Her black hair was down and cascading over her shoulders. Although she still had the thin body and gaunt cheeks she possessed now, Severus remembered thinking her pretty.

The Eileen Prince before him now was more like a ghost than a flesh-and-blood woman. Her skin had an abnormal whiteness to it, like someone who never ventured outdoors. Her eyes were sunken, and he noted, the skin surrounding one of them had the colors of a healing bruise. She was so thin that Severus thought she would break apart just by standing; but she didn't. She never broke. For whatever reason, she remained.

She reached out her hand towards him, although her eyes darted between him and the sitting room. Understanding her meaning, he walked forward as silent as a cat. Grabbing his hand, she led him into the tiny, grubby kitchen.

Once inside, she wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled him into a weak hug. He held her as tightly as he dared. Breathing in and out as steadily as he could, he desperately fought to control his emotions. Would the past be filled with nothing but Occumelency tests?

"My little Prince," she said shakily, pulling away from him. "I was worried. Where have you been?"

His mother spoke in a very articulated accent; it was obvious that she was both well-bred and thoroughly educated. Severus had always tried to mimic her, but often lapsed into his father's Northern drawl when agitated.

"I received an Owl from Dumbledore," he said quietly. "He… he asked for me to take my NEWTs early."

Mrs. Snape looked at him suspiciously, making Severus frown slightly. It had always been nearly impossible for him to lie to his mother.

"Why is that?" she asked.

"My scores have been unusually high," he continued. "He gave me the option to graduate early and be a part of special internship he is putting together. He seems to think it would be in my better interest."

"That doesn't make sense," she replied, her eyebrows furrowed and worried. "Why would Dumbledore care about you, son?" Although it wasn't meant to be malicious, the question caused him to wince.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "However, I was promised that if I work for Dumbledore for two years, he says he will secure a position with Mr. Nocturne of  _Foxglove and Dragon's Blood_  for me. Mum, this could be a really good chance for me… for my future… I would be a fool not to take it."

She stared at him and hugged her arms.

"It seems too easy," she said, shaking her head. "Good things just... good things don't happen to us, darling."

She stared in such a way that he realized she wasn't looking at him, but through him. He took her delicate hand into his own.

"Mum," he said softly. "I promise it will be alright. Two years isn't a very long time… I promise I will come back. I promise I will make something good for us. You'll see."

She sighed, wearily.

"That sounds like _him_ ," she whispered. "He'd be gone for months and I would have nothing… nothing but a promise to keep me going."

Severus grit his teeth and held back a curse. He didn't have to guess  _who_  she was talking about.

"How did you do on your NEWTs?" she asked suddenly, looking back into his face.

"All 'O's," he replied. "Well, save two subjects: Divination and Arithmancy—they were 'E's."

She gave him a soft smile.

"Of course," she said, squeezing his hand. "Of course you did well, my brilliant little Prince."

Releasing his hand, she hugged her arms again and looked at the ground. Her smile faded.

"You'll need to pack," she said, eyes darting about in thought. "I… I'll go try to wake him and explain the situation. He… he should know… you—you know your father, he doesn't like surprises…"

"Alright," Severus replied stiffly.

Fidgeting with the front of her shawl, she left the kitchen and slipped quietly into the sitting room. When he was certain she was out of sight, Severus made his way to the small refrigerator they kept by the sink. Upon opening it, he was hardly surprised to find the shelves nearly empty. Save for an open carton of brown eggs, a bag of rotten carrots, and a half-empty can of beer, there was nothing.

Severus picked up the can of beer. It was a very cheap brand. His father would often sit in front of the television and drink a whole case of the stuff by himself. If he was ever unable to finish, he always left the opened can in the refrigerator, and there were usually terrible consequences if anyone were to throw it out.

Opening his satchel with a free hand, Severus searched through a row of strapped-down vials. When he reached a clear-colored liquid, he removed it from its hold and uncorked the container. Calmly, he poured the entirety of its contents into the half-empty beer can.

Replacing the beer in the exact spot he had found it in, Severus silently closed the refrigerator door and headed for the sitting room. The empty, unlabeled vial was put back into the satchel.

* * *

His time at Spinner's End was—fortunately—extremely short.

After packing what few possessions he had into a very old trunk, he was prepared to leave-- and glad of it. As he turned to go, his mother entered the room to present him with her favorite book of potions as a "good luck" present. She also slipped a few sickles into his pockets. He tried to refuse, but she looked so near to crying that he reluctantly accepted them. After giving him her gift, she quickly retreated and hid somewhere in the house. He tried to find her and hug her goodbye, but it seemed like she did not want to be found.

At last, he transported the trunk through the hallway into the sitting room, where his father was waiting for him. His eyes were bloodshot; he was wearing a stained white smock and very worn denim slacks. He had the unfinished beer from the fridge in his hand. He didn't look completely sober, and he glared at Severus as he approached.

"So," Tobias began. "You're finally leavin'?"

"Yes sir," Severus clipped his tense reply.

"About bloody time," Tobias slurred. "You should've been out on your own—working like a man—a fuckin' year ago."

He took a sip of the beer before he continued. Severus' eyes flitted between the beer can to his father's face, but otherwise he was expressionless.

Tobias pointed a bent finger at Severus. "I don't ever want to see your scrawny hide here again," he said in a vaguely threatening tone. "From this day forward, you are on your own now. You make your own way. You work with your own hands. Do we understand each other, boy?"

"Perfectly," Severus said, never taking his eyes off of his father's ruddy face.

Satisfied that his wishes would be obeyed, Tobias nodded and turned away.

"Good," he said, waving his hand towards the door. "Get goin’, then."

Without saying anything further, Tobias Snape lumbered up the stairs towards his bedroom. It was the last Severus ever saw of him.

* * *

It was mid-morning when Severus finally appeared.

Nocturne was standing in front of Spinner's End with a grim expression on his face. He was dressed in a Muggle-styled suit made of burgundy suede, complete with a dark brown waistcoat. Considering the time period, he believed it to be appropriate.

He sighed and watched as the dark-haired boy emerged with his trunk. Nocturne walked slowly up to meet him, watching as the boy's typically expressionless face betrayed him for a moment and revealed his surprise.

"Mr. Nocturne, sir," the boy said slowly, in his unusually deep voice. "What are you doing here?"

"What indeed, Severus Snape," Nocturne replied with one eyebrow raised.

When he did not elaborate, Severus stared at him in confusion. Blinking slowly, the boy said, "I suppose… Dumbledore has spoken to you about postponing the position you have offered me until I complete his… ah, internship?"

"He has," Nocturne replied tensely.

"You did not come all the way out here to… well," Severus said, gesturing about him, embarrassed. "All of…  _this_ … just to speak to me, surely."

"No," was Nocturne's clipped reply. "I did not and I have not."

Lifting his hand, he cast a wandless spell, vanishing Severus' trunk in an instant. Momentarily stunned, the young man stared at him in confusion.

"Your trunk is safely at Hogwarts," said Nocturne, simply. "Now I need for you to come with me."

Turning abruptly, Nocturne headed in the direction of a small park a few blocks away. Severus hesitated. He seemed extremely wary when he finally decided to followed behind him, and Nocturne could see that the boy's hand was holding his wand tightly at his side.

"Relax, Severus," Nocturne said with a trace of dark humor. "I will not harm you."

Severus nodded, but continued to grip his wand nonetheless. Nocturne led him through the park and down a slope that led towards the dingy river that flowed weakly nearby. They were silent as they walked. The brown grass crunched underneath their brisk steps. A strange tension seemed to build as the heat of the day slowly crept upon them.

After some length, Nocturne approached a tree; a chestnut tree that grew in their path along the river. Upon seeing the tree, the boy turned a shade paler but remained silent.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Nocturne turned to face the boy, who merely stared back at him, standing in attention. Nocturne noticed that his stance looked as though prepared for a fight. His hands were clenched, and his feet were wide and firm to the ground. Although Severus' face was impassive, his eyes flashed dark with anxious suspicion and hinted dangerous power.

 _Always expecting a fight, aren't you?_  Nocturne thought as he observed the thin young man. A bolt of pity ran through Nocturne's veins, but he promptly ignored it. He frowned.

"Severus Snape," he said in a commanding voice. "Could you kindly tell me how old you are?"

The boy's eyes narrowed and when he spoke it was quiet.

"I am fifteen, s—"

"No, no," Nocturne interrupted, shaking his head. He took a few steps forward until he was close enough to reach out and touch Severus if he wanted. The young man took one step back, but he could not avoid Nocturne's intense, questioning amber eyes as they pierced into his.

"How old are you  _really_?"


	8. Doctor Who Jokes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.

Lily Evans lay propped up on her bed, looking out the window beside her. Even though it was midday, the sky was quite dark with rain clouds and tiny droplets raced down her windowpane. She vaguely watched them run, while her hands gently stroked the Shadow Mink curled up beside her.

The creature turned out to be mostly nocturnal, and after a few nights of hearing her chirrups and little cries, Lily sarcastically named her Pipsqueak. At the moment, the small ball of light was sleeping in the shadow of Lily's legs and purring lightly at her touch. The white covers of the bed swirled about them like a nest, and the organized chaos of the room only added to the comfort of the scene.

In spite of this, Lily was not at ease. Her face was serious and her mind melancholy. She had not heard from Severus in three days, and she felt a deep sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Her mind was a swirl of the mysterious Mr. Nocturne, dark magic, Severus' confession about his feelings towards Hogwarts, and her suspected failure as a friend. She couldn't sort out how she felt; she teetered between guilt that she hadn't seen things from Sev's point of view and relief that his absence would make life at Hogwarts easier for herself, and then back to guilt for feeling such things. She had never really thought much about their friendship beyond the surface level, and the events of the past few days were forcing her to think about it seriously; mostly, she just felt confused.

She sighed.

There was a knock at the door, rousing her from her murky thoughts.

"Come in," she called out.

Petunia entered the room with a scowl. She was wearing a pair of rolled-up denim pants, which was unusual. Petunia rarely ever wore anything other than a skirt or a dress. Her blouse was a dusty red and very flattering. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.

Lily blinked at her sister and stared. Before Severus, Petunia had been her closest friend. She could remember how they used to play with an old dollhouse for hours when it rained. She could remember how Petunia had helped and protected her from older children when she had first attended primary school. She could remember how it all went slipping away when she had started Hogwarts.

It suddenly occurred to Lily that perhaps, like Severus, she had not understood or considered her sister's point of view. Perhaps, she thought sadly, she would never understand how her sister felt. Perhaps, this strained relationship was where her relationship with Sev was headed.

"Dad is going to be late tonight," Petunia was saying through tight lips. "And mum is playing bridge with Mrs. Clover and Olivia Robinson. So, I'm supposed to feed you… what do you want?"

Lily continued to stare at her sister and mumbled, "Oh… uh, I dunno… it's kinda too early to think about it.."

Petunia's eyes narrowed.

"What are you staring at, freak?" she spat out. For some reason, Lily didn't feel like letting the insult hurt her. Instead, Lily sat up on the edge of her bed and gave her a small smile.

"Nothing, Tuney," Lily replied, cautiously. "It's just that—you look really pretty today."

"W-what?" Petunia sputtered.

"Really, Tuney!" Lily insisted. "You should wear jeans more often. I've never realized what nice hips you have."

A slow, dark blush grew on her sister's face.

"H-how can you say that?!" Petunia cried, scandalized. "Don't say such vulgar things!"

"What? That you have nice hips?" Lily replied with a teasing grin on her face.

"Yes that!" Petunia snapped.

Lily chuckled and stood up from the bed, holding Pipsqueak in her arms. The little creature gave a little sleepy cry and snuggled close to her chest.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," she said, still laughing lightly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you—but you really are very pretty. You… you know that right?"

She took a step closer to her sister. Petunia's eyes did not meet hers, but rather, she seemed to be looking sideways at the floor. Her arms folded defensively across her chest. Lily cocked her head to one side, trying to catch her eyes again.

"I mean it," Lily said, sincerely.

"You're a nutter," Petunia replied, but a corner of her mouth twitched. The sight of her sister trying not to smile at such a small compliment—defending herself against such a thing—gave Lily the oddest sensation of anger. Someone had made Petunia think herself ugly. Someone had made her defensive. That epiphany was enough to cause Lily's famous temper to flare into life.

"I may be a nutter," Lily said heatedly. "But I'm not blind! And, you—you're beautiful and brilliant, Tuney. And… and I hope you know that if anyone tells you otherwise—I'll hex them till their balls fall off!"

Petunia blinked at her passionate sister, and the strangest thing happened. Instead of chastising her for her choice of words or mocking her ability to hex, Petunia's eyes closed tightly and she began to laugh. She doubled over in a burst of genuine laughter.

Lily's cheeks pinked slightly and she protested, "Hey! Why are you laughing?! I meant it!"

Struggling for breath, Petunia gasped, "I—I know! I know you meant it, you silly goose!"

Lily grinned at that. She remembered how Petunia used to call her a 'silly little goose' all the time when they were very young. Whenever she would get into some sort of ridiculous situation, Petunia would always get her out of it, teasing her with the nickname. She remembered how she used to feel so safe because she knew her big sister would take care of her, laughing the whole time.

 _I may not know what to do about Severus right now,_  Lily thought sadly to herself.  _But maybe… maybe it's not too late for me and Petunia… maybe… maybe I can start here._

When Petunia's chuckles began to quiet, Lily said to her, "Tuney… do you…  _hate_  me?"

Caught off guard, Petunia's eyes widened.

"I…" she shook her head, trying to find the answer.

"Because," Lily continued. "I don't hate you."

Petunia blinked, but said nothing.

"I don't," Lily insisted. "In fact, I… I wish things could be the way they used to be…"

Petunia's eyes narrowed, and she lowered her head. Her mouth opened once, as if to say something, but then closed. Keeping her feelings close to her chest—Petunia's defenses, once again, barred Lily from the truth held tight in her heart.

"But let's not talk about that now," Lily said quickly, sensing this struggle and not wanting to pressure or manipulate her sister. She suspected she did enough of that with Severus, and it was something she needed to improve on.

"Anyways, I have an idea about dinner."

"What's that?" Petunia said, with a nervous look.

"Let's go out tonight!" Lily exclaimed, grinning. "Let's go and get pizza at the roller-disco downtown."

"What?" Petunia replied, her eyebrows rising up to the hairline. "Are you crazy? You know Monday is a ladies night down there—it will be crawling with… with men! What would mum say?!"

Lily giggled excitedly as she turned to put Pipsqueak in her cage.

"Mum will never know!" she replied conspiratorially. "It will just be a secret between you and me!"

"But you're only  _fifteen_ —they won't let you in!"

"I'm almost sixteen, thank you, and they'll never know! Trust me; I'm pretty good at sneaking into places."

Petunia put her hands on her hips, and lowered her head with a sigh.

"Just you and me?" she asked after a moment. She looked up with a strangely hopeful expression on her face. Lily couldn't help the twinge of sadness that softened the grin she offered her sister, but in her youthfulness, she didn't fully understand it.

"Yeah, Tuney," she said, simply. "Just you and me."

Petunia nodded and turned to head out the door.

"Alright, I guess," she began, hesitantly. "I'll go change—"

"No!" Lily interrupted. "You look so cute in jeans! Really, Tuney, stay as you are!"

Although her head was turned, Lily could see a small smile light up and soften Petunia's features.

"If you say so," she said quietly.

* * *

 

"How old are you  _really_?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Severus said in monotone.

It was drizzling now, and little dots and ripples were dancing along the surface of the river. The chestnut tree quivered slightly, although if there was a wind, Severus didn't notice it.

Nocturne was cocking his head to one side with a look of solemn amusement. It caused a shiver to crawl up Severus' spine.

"Drop the Occumelency please," Nocturne said suddenly. "There's no point for it if I know you are using it."

Severus' eyes widened and his mental blocks fell as if in obedience, immediately replacing his calm expression with one of angry confusion.

"Who are you?!" Severus snapped; his voice barely hiding how disturbed he was by Nocturne. "What do you want?!"

"Ah, now we see the real Severus Snape," Nocturne said to himself, with a gentle grin. "A young man full of fiery passion and deep emotion—although no one would ever suspect it, would they? But then, that is... was.. er, _is_ in your best interest, I suppose."

Severus ground his teeth together; his knuckles clenched white around his wand.

"I've heard about you, you know?" Nocturne continued, seeming to ignore Severus' reaction. "Of course, I have. I just… never paid attention, never knew of your significance… I always thought another could replace your role in this story. I suppose I'm getting too old. My memory is not what it used to be, but then, I have so much to remember."

Severus looked utterly out of his element. The man before him was speaking both truth and nonsense.

"Sir—" Severus began, his wand twitching and a spell on his lips.

Nocturne looked him directly in the eyes with a piercing gaze and said in a quiet, but powerful voice, "Did you know that after Voldemort's defeat, Harry ended up naming a son after you?"

Severus' eyes flew open wide and he trembled from head to toe.

" _What??_ " he whispered; his words faint against the drizzling rain. "What did you say?"

"Harry names one of his sons 'Albus Severus Potter,'" Nocturne replied. "Between you and me, I think that's an incredibly daft name, but there it is."

Severus' legs seem to buckle under these words and he fell to his knees. He kept himself from falling forward; his hands and wand pushing against the ground. He was shaking like a leaf and after a few deep breaths, he began to laugh strangely.

"You're right," he cried, laughing and looking back up at Nocturne. "That's the stupidest name I've ever heard!"

He continued laughing, somewhat idiotically for a moment or two longer. Nocturne remained solemn and merely observed as Severus' laughter morphed into gulps of intense sadness and pain. He brought his hands to his face.

He could hear the brown grass crunch, as Nocturne knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Severus wanted to turn away, but he felt overwhelmed by his emotions. Without Occumelency shielding him, there was too much to take in.

"S-so," Severus gasped out. "The… boy… lived?"

"He did," Nocturne replied. "Or, in your case, I suppose I should say, 'He  _does_.'"  
  
" _How?!_ "  
  
"That I'm unsure," Nocturne admitted. "Perhaps, the Dumbledore of your time knew, but his death took him out of my line of sight, so-to-speak."

Jerking his head up, Severus' eyes, red-rimmed and fearsome, glared at him. As quick as a thought, he brought his wand up and pointed it threateningly at Nocturne's face.

"How could you know this?! How could you  _possibly_  know this?!" he demanded, wildly. "Tell me! –tell me now!"

Nocturne looked calm and unconcerned. With a slight inclination of his head, he looked Severus in the eyes and ignored the wand jutting at the center of his face.

"You asked who I was earlier," he replied. "And I will tell you. I am Elias Nocturne. Sole maintainer of the Order of Merlin  _Archetypon_. Potions Master and Conductor of Time."

"Conductor of…" Severus repeated; his brows furrowed in disbelief. " _Time_?"

"Yes," Nocturne continued with a grim smile. "The last wizard schooled in the art of time magic. It is my duty to uphold the laws of the original Order of Merlin, to protect both Wizards and Muggles from the misuse of time-altering magic, and to correct any anomalies that occur from this kind of illegal activity. Surely you thought the Ministry would have someone on the books to take care of such things?"

Severus blinked at this information; he felt quite unable to process it all at the moment.

As usual, the first thing to recover was his sarcasm.

"There's a Doctor Who joke somewhere in all of this," he deadpanned, lowering his wand. "But suddenly I'm not in the mood."

"Trust me," Nocturne replied with a sigh, getting back up on his feet. "I get enough jokes from Dumbledore."


	9. Split Branches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you could rewrite the wrongs of your past? What regrets would you erase? For Severus Snape, these questions are no longer rhetorical.

Severus remained half-kneeling on the ground. He couldn't decide if he believed Nocturne's claim as a so-called "Conductor of Time" or not. While he had been able to provide him with intimate information about the future, Severus was not ready to believe him just yet. He had never heard of a regulator for the misuse of time magic, and it wasn't often that he learned something new about the magical world.

Nocturne, seemingly unperturbed, was walking calmly to the chestnut tree. Placing one of his large, calloused hands upon the bark of the tree, he said solemnly, "There are many branches in time, Severus Snape. For every choice a person makes, there are countless alternate choices. From these choices are born entirely new universes."

He paused, looking up at the rustling leaves and feeling the droplets of rain falling on his face.

"Many choices were made under this tree," he said, his eyelids closed. "Hundreds of other universes were born here. Let me see if I can find the right one…"

From the confines of his brown waistcoat, Nocturne produced his wand. It was unusually long and worn, resembling the tree branches he spoke of more so than a wand. Drawing horizontal lines with it in the air, he whispered an incantation, " _Puer. Risus. Fletus. Tempus. Repere."_

The lines drawn midair, took shape as he repeated his words. Thick lines of white light began to shine before the tree, creating a strange shutter-like pattern. At last, Nocturne sliced his wand vertical through the magical shutters, opening them and creating a strange, floating window of light.

Standing back, he motioned to Severus.

"Come and see," he said.

Severus shakily got to his feet and approached the window. His eyes squinted at the scene it displayed.

It was the very chestnut tree he now stood beside, only it's leaves were colored in yellow and orange hues; it was night. The moon was large and low in the sky, and a strong wind blew across the grass. 

Suddenly, someone apparated in front of the tree. Turning around, the figure leaned heavily against the bark, sobbing and gasping for air.

"Lily!" Severus choked out in recognition. It was her as he recalled her from his own timeline. She was older, wearier, and wounded; her features were marred by grief and blood. In her arms was a small bundle that she held tightly to her chest.

"No..." Severus whispered under his breath. Reaching out, as though to touch her, his hand passed through the image, touching nothing. It was as if he were reaching through a movie projection or trying to capture smoke.

"This is only a short glimpse of another timeline," Nocturne said to him. "It is merely a window. You cannot interfere."

Bewildered, Severus watched helplessly as this future Lily struggled for breath against the tree. At her breast, her bundle began to whimper weakly. Severus' eyes widened. It was Harry whom she held in her arms.

Hugging her baby, she whispered, "James... oh God... James... what do I do?!"

She began to cry. Angrily rubbing her eyes with the back of her arm, she placed one hand upon the tree, steadying herself. She looked up at her hand as she felt the coarseness of the bark. A sudden thought graced her mind, as if remembering, and her eyes opened wide with hope.

"Severus..."

His name tumbled out of her mouth like a whispered prayer. At the sound, Severus braced himself against the tree, much like she was doing.

"Severus..." she said again, this time pain and regret flooding her features. Tears filled her eyes, and when she spoke again her voice sounded like a frightened child. "Severus... please... please come to me... please come get me... please..."

The baby began to cry. She hugged him tightly and kissed his little head.

"I'm so sorry... Severus, I—" she said, sinking against the tree and crying freely. "I'm so sorry I never got to—"

A sound cut through her words. It was the sound of a wizard apparating. Though her back was turned to the newcomer, she knew who he was. A green light illuminated her features as she gripped her baby even more tightly to her chest.

"Harry—" she began, when the dreadful words interrupted her.

" _Avada kedavra!_ "

A light flashed. The window closed.

Severus fell to his knees, his hands over his eyes. He didn't make a sound, but his mouth was open, as though he were screaming. Nocturne winced and put his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Nocturne was saying, stiffly. "I did not mean to cause you pain by showing you this. I, truly, did not know it would. I have seen so little of you in my journeys through time, and hearsay is unreliable. Forgive me. I should have known better. I am... unused to handling the emotions of others."

Severus made no reply, so Nocturne continued.

"I showed you this for a reason. It is not a coincidence you are here in  _this_  timeline. For, you see, all of her deaths are similar. The window was showing a timeline of which Lily apparated here. That happens occasionally. In general, she doesn't. I've been to their home. I've witnessed her death many times there. And always, Severus, her last wishes are for you to come get her."

Severus looked up at him, tears streaming down his face and his mouth formed in a teeth-showing grit.

"I do not fully understand magic," Nocturne told him as gently as his personality would allow. "Any witch or wizard who says they do is a liar. Magic is like gravity... or...  _love_. We know it is part of our world, yet we cannot thoroughly explain how it works or why it happens. This goes even doubly so for time magic, for the magic of time not only alters our world, but many worlds.

Now, while I cannot tell you exactly  _how_  you came to this timeline, it is my job to recognize anomalies and discover their source. In this case  _you_  are the anomaly; Lily is the source. My theory is that the culmination of her final wishes somehow caused you, at your death, to reset to a time before you made a choice. A choice that would ultimately separate you from her. Am I wrong in assuming such a separation occurs this year?"

Severus shook his head slowly, fighting to stop his tears and trying to steady his breathing.

"While I have never heard of such a thing happening before," Nocturne continued. "I suspect that you and Miss Lily have a bond that affects important events in the timeline. It is, perhaps, that importance which caused the time magic to gather about you as your spirit left your body, weaving Lily's final wishes into a powerful, unspoken spell."

He put his hands on Severus' shoulders, shaking him lightly, as if to rouse him back to rationality.

"Severus," he said, in a commanding tone. "Listen to me! You are in a unique position. You have been given the opportunity to change Lily's destiny! If my theory is correct, that is the sole reason why you are here. Lily's dying wish called to you across time and space, your spirit responded as it left your body, and the magic brought you here.

 _However_! Pay attention to what I tell you now! Certain events cannot be changed in the timeline. What is happening with Lily is truly... miraculous. As I said, I have never heard of something like this happening before— and  _if_  you succeed! This will be the only timeline where she does not die at Voldemort's hands, if you choose it."

Severus' eyes widened, grasping his words at last.

"Y-you mean," he said, hopeful and trembling. "Lily... she... will live?"

"Yes," Nocturne said, his eyes stern. "If you are triumphant in protecting her, that is, if your bond is not severed. However, someone  _must_  die in her place. Someone  _must_  be this world's 'Harry Potter.' As in all other timelines, certain events must happen... and certain key figures must perish. That includes—"

"Me," Severus interjected.

Nocturne closed his eyes solemnly and nodded.

"If you are as crucial to the timeline as I now suspect you are, then yes."

The younger wizard looked to the ground and smiled, weakly, to himself.

"Anything," Severus whispered. "Everything...  _anything_  for her..."

Nocturne looked at him severely.

"Such devotion," he remarked. "I wonder if it is wise?"

"It's not," Severus responded flatly, lifting up his head to look into the older wizard's eyes. "Never was. If I had known... if I had known what I was setting myself up for when I first saw her... I wonder if I would have still called out to her..."

He paused, and looked at the tree, as if lost in memory. He wiped his tears away on the back of his hand.

"I believe I still would have," he admitted, brows furrowed, as if he had read something in the chestnut branches he didn't understand.

Nocturne let go of the boy's shoulders and sighed. He stood up.

"Very well," he said. "I won't lie to you, this will be a tricky path. While it is possible to change Lily's future, it is also possible that you could make the future worse for everyone else. It would be detrimental if Voldemort learned of what is to come."

"He never will," Severus replied vehemently. "I have shielded my mind from him for years."

"That's because you were empty inside," Nocturne said in a matter-of-fact tone. "That's because you had nothing to hope for. Lily was dead. Your emotions were easier to keep in check. I've prodded your mind. You are distracted."

"I won't be. I will... keep myself away from her until all is safe."

"So long as whatever broke your bond apart does not repeat itself in  _this_  timeline, that would probably be for the best."

 _That is nothing to fear,_  thought Severus.  _I won't even be at Hogwarts much. I'll be in no danger of calling her... what I did before..._

"Be cautious, Severus," Nocturne said, as though he could read his thoughts. "I will help you navigate the timeline when I can. In fact, I fully intend to allow you to work my shop when all is said and done."

"Really?" Severus blinked, confusedly. "But... why? Why me?"

"Because you are damn good at Potions," Nocturne replied. "And I will not..."

He paused, words hesitating on his lips.

"In two years, I will not have the time to maintain it," he said finally. "That should work perfectly within the timeline you are building."

"But, you... you just told me I will die," Severus replied, skeptically.

"We all must die, Severus," replied Nocturne. "All of us... even Lily. The only thing we can change is the  _when_."

After a few moments, Severus stood up, shakily. Supporting himself against the tree, he sighed.

"So..." he said, once he was composed. "You are really a 'Conductor of Time,' huh? I suppose that's how you knew what questions I asked Harry Potter in Potions that day. You knew who I was all along."

"What?" Nocturne asked, looking puzzled. Then with a short laugh, he said, "Oh that! No, no. I had no idea who you were, really, until Dumbledore approached me about your... er, shall we say, ' _temporal displacement_.' No, I knew those questions because I'm very familiar with Harry Potter's timeline, and I always found that particular incident funny. And I will admit, I often use a person's own words against them as a personal joke. In this way, who can tell who originally came up with the questions?"

Severus stared at Nocturne as if he were mad.

It was now mid-afternoon and the light rain had stopped. The overcast clouds blocked the sun's rays, but illuminated the earth nonetheless, like a lamp-shade over a light bulb. The air smelled of wet earth and, in the distance, a melancholy bird sang a lonely song.

"I know you still have many questions," Nocturne said, turning away abruptly. "We will talk more later. For now, I suggest you say your goodbyes. Two years can be both a long and short amount of time. I will meet you back at Hogwarts when you are finished."

"I've already said my goodbyes to my parents," Severus replied.

Nocturne turned his head until he was glancing over his shoulder.

"I wasn't talking about your parents, Severus Snape," he said with a knowing look.

Then he apparated, leaving Severus alone with his shaken, bewildered thoughts.

* * *

 

Lily was dressed in a high-waisted denim mini-skirt and a green-and-blue-striped knit sweater. Her red hair was down and looked like a flame curving around her face and back. She had borrowed Petunia's makeup to cover her ever-present acne, and to be extra daring, she painted her lips with a dark, seductive shade of red. It flattered her, although deep down, she felt odd looking in such a way. Being just on the cusp of sixteen, her attempts at "sexiness" felt awkward.

The term, "sexy" had, previously, been something meant only for adults, and would surely never be meant for her. Yet, as her body continued to bloom into womanhood, "sexy" became something she longed to obtain, although she did not fully understand her own motives.

She looked at her tall bedroom mirror and blushed at herself. She thought that she looked strangely older in such clothes. Her legs had been losing their baby-fat, becoming long and comely. Her waist and hips more defined, taking on the shapely look of a young woman. Her chest had been slowly taking form, and the tightness of the sweater showed their gentle swell. These clothes, or costume more like, accentuated these bodily changes, but in spite of this, she felt in her heart that she was still very young. The person in the mirror didn't look like her; it looked like someone she didn't know.

 _I wonder if I will ever feel comfortable in my own skin,_  she thought to herself, hugging her arms about her waist.  _I wonder if my body will ever match how I am in my mind... or will I be awkward and uncertain about myself forever?_

 _I wonder if Severus feels this way_ , came a sudden, unbidden thought.  _I wonder if he feels awkward that his body is changing._

Her blush deepened and she shook her head. She should not be thinking about something as embarrassing as a boy's changing body. Especially  _Severus'_  body! 

"As if things aren't awkward between us already!" she shouted aloud to herself. "I'm not about to ask him how he's handling puberty!"

"Lily?" came a laughing voice at her door. It was Petunia. "Are you talking to yourself again?"

"AH! Tuney! Get out!" Lily cried, embarrassed. Jumping away from the mirror, she ran at the door to slam it closed.

She could hear Petunia's laughter on the other side.

"Well, alright, then!" her sister said, trying to stop herself giggling. "I was just going to tell you that I'm going to run to the station around the corner and put gas in the car. When I get back we'll head downtown. Have your  _puberty problems_  figured out by then!"

Lily groaned, leaning back against her door and thinking she would die from embarrassment. She heard Petunia walk downstairs; the front door creaked opened and the slammed closed. In a few minutes, the sounds of Petunia's rumbling car reached her ears, only to grow distant. She sighed. She was alone in the house.

Stepping in front of the mirror again, she contemplated changing into something more conservative, when she heard a gentle  _tap_  sound. She turned around, puzzled.

Another tapping sound reached her ears, this time in succession. It was the front door.

"Petunia?" she called out, testily. "What did you forget?!"

Rushing down the stairs, she opened the door, wide.

There, standing on her front porch, was a very confunded-looking Severus Snape.

Her initial reaction was to immediately close the door to hide her appearance, but it was too late now. He had clearly seen her, as his eyes had widened as soon as she had come into view. So, instead, she awkwardly half-closed the door and peered out from behind it.

"Ah... ha," she awkwardly began. "Severus... uh... hello."

"Yes," he replied, sounding a little lost. "Hello."

"Um, what is it you want?" she asked, folding her arms to cover her chest. "I... I haven't seen you in three days."

"Right," he said, shaking his head slightly. His features suddenly turned passive and vacant, yet she could clearly see that his dark eyes were shining.

"I've come to say goodbye," he said calmly.

"What? Goodbye?"

"I've... I've spoken to Dumbledore about apprenticing with Nocturne. He has agreed to this if I..."

He paused, as if choosing his words. Looking at the ground, he said aloud, "Dumbledore has agreed so long as I intern with him for two years."

"Sev, that sounds wonderful," she said with a genuine smile. "Think of all you could learn from him in two years!"

He nodded but said nothing.

"And since you will be with Dumbledore," she began, thinking aloud. "Does this mean you will be at Hogwarts from time to time?"

"I don't know," he said, looking up at her. "That's why I'm here. I have already said goodbye to my parents. And so... well, two years is... a rather long time."

Her eyes widened with understanding. Opening the door fully, she stepped forward without thinking. Wrapping her arms around his skinny middle, she pulled him into sudden, tight hug.

Severus froze where he stood. His arms awkwardly hovered above her, but never actually touched her. She felt as if she were hugging a statue, a very thin and very  _wiry_  statue.

She suddenly felt very foolish. Looking up into his face, she was surprised to find his expression no longer looked vacant. He seemed to be teetering between awe and alarm.

"S-sorry," she muttered and pulled away. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just... I know that saying goodbye to your parents must of been hard and... well, I don't know when I'll see you again so..." She trailed off, unsure of where she was going.

"No, Lily," he said, the corners of his mouth pulling into a small, shy smile. "Don't worry about it."

Lily tugged absently at her tight sweater. Feeling a light blush cross her cheeks, she shook her head.  _Why am I getting so flustered?!_  she thought to herself.  _It's only Sev! We hugged tons of times as children! I flew on his flippin' back three days ago!_

"Please take care," she said, her smile similar to his. "And definitely come visit me whenever you happen to be at Hogwarts. If you want, that is."

"I will," he said like a promise, making her feel odd sensations in her stomach.

Then, stepping back a bit, he nodded at her and apparated.

When she was sure he was gone, she let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"Why must he always catch me when I'm being ridiculous?!" she said aloud in a frustrated tone. "I think he does it on purpose. And since when can he _apparate?!_ "

She looked up into the overcast clouds and absently watched as two ravens flew over the rooftops. They flew without direction, and she watched until distance obscured them.

"Oh Sev..." she whispered into the open air. “I hope things are different when we meet again.”

Then, as though startled by her own words, she rushed inside and shut the door.


End file.
